Final Fantasy: Reality
by Chaosrayne
Summary: [Original Epic] A multi-universal action adventure story unfolds, catching up the life of the daydreamer Rain into it whether he likes it or not. What do you fight for? What do you believe in? Alternate FF-styled Universe.
1. DISK I: th4 w0rld a5 w3 5ee 1t

_Why do we exist?  
_  
Is reality just a dream?  
  
Do we even begin to question our existence in this universe that is our own?  
  
_Are we alone?_  
  
Do we believe that the impossible can happen, and lives can change forever?  
  
I used to sit, staring out the window, watching the world pass me by, stuck in the monotonous day-to-day schedule of life at the academy, working hard to only prove a point.   
  
But then, the impossible happened, and I discovered another reality, and through it, began to discover myself. Isn't life strange?  
  
Do you believe? You may not, or think I'm just playing you like a badly tuned piano, but I am telling the truth. About the worlds. And the wars. And this story of hope, angst, war, hate, and love.  
  
After all, it's not impossible. Whatever we choose to believe in is real in our eyes. After all, we can't see what we breathe, so we invent an explanation for it, and call it air. Who are we to believe and dub the invisible?  
  
Will you take the trip, feel the passion, and join me? Or will you continue here, trying hard to fit in, striving to try for something in the far distant future? It's your choice. Whatever you choose, just remember this story, and hope that the world can change.   
  
For this is my story. _Believe it if you will._

* * *

  
  
**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk 1ne: 1ne: the world as we see it  
  
**

****

* * *

  
  
_Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory?  
  
Panting, running blindly through the streets. A scream is heard somewhere behind.  
  
Weeping and sobbing. Tears fall, human pain manifesting as drops of salt solution. And a baby begins to cry.  
  
"no time, no time... "  
  
The old woman kissed her charge one last time   
  
"Time, space, bend... "  
  
The ground opened up in a portal of darkness and lightning. The woman looked one last time at the baby, then, as another explosion was heard behind her, she draped a blue stone on a silver chain around his neck.  
  
" Remove!!!"  
  
The child was dropped into the portal, vanishing in an instant. It irised closed quickly. The woman collapsed on her knees as the spell drained her energies. The one known as the Dark Born walked up to the sobbing lady, silently.   
  
The woman finally noticed, and crawled on her hands and knees to get away. But her exit was blocked, and she was forced up against a corner.   
  
In that moment, she saw the face of her murderer. She screams, but too late.  
  
The sword passed cleanly through her breast and exited out her back, still gleaming with the blood of its past victim.   
  
She looked so surprised, there at the end.  
  
Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory.  
  
It is finished._

* * *

A man walked through the deserted corridors of a bunker, casually loading his shotgun. Said man strode with all the clear-cut precision of a razor, every movement timed to perfection. Slamming the breech firmly on his gun, he slung it behind his back on top of a scarred and badly pitted set of vest armour with a small insignia on the left chest area that showed a number 7 in a silver circle.   
  
His heavy frame bulged with ammo and guns - a walking arsenal. Running his hand through his shaven head, which was bare except for a single, dark dreadlock, he strapped on a bandolier of grenades diagonally along his chest, still moving quickly with the added weight. He wasn't a big believer in all that magic nonsense, although he could cast a spell if need be. Rely on things that go boom. Good, common sense.  
  
Selecting another gun from the rack, he pulled a MiG assault rifle from its position on the wall and checked it throughly, lovingly cradling the weapon in the crook of one arm. Extra ammo packages hung from attached pockets. Finally, grabbing a small handheld computer from a table and fitting it into a belt compartment, he was ready.   
  
Opposite from him stood a girl clad in a formfitting black bodysuit, with a loose belt equipped with a pair of combat knives and a few small pouches that held unknown objects. She also wore a pair of brown leather fingerless gloves with small round slots in the knuckles, where minuscule orbs of multicoloured hues resided. The woman rubbed them thoughtfully, lightly flicking her brown ponytail over her shoulder. The same logo of the 7 in the silver circle glinted on the right shoulder of her skin-tight outfit.   
  
"Patch, you ready?"  
  
The larger man nodded.  
  
"Got the stuff?"  
  
Another nod, this time accompanied by a small smile.   
  
"I got the stuff. If the Commander finds out... we are SO screwed..."  
  
The woman sniffed once in contempt. "He needs this job done anyway. We have the best chance of succeeding."  
  
The man sighed in exasperation. "Kira, I took one of the only remaining handheld computer units. I don't think he's going to be too flippin' happy if we don't come back with it intact."  
  
"I don't think he'll be happy if we don't come back. Period."  
  
"Point taken. Let's go. Our mission is stealth - we're not going in there to trash everything, just to destroy the damn machine and get out. So, no Callings, alright?"  
  
"Phooey. Just because the last time I summoned I nearly took out another O7 unit mech."  
  
"Kira! We only have 6 freaking available mech units left! And that's compared to, what, several hundred Imperial MEDUSA mechs?"  
  
"Relax, big guy," Kira laughed, wrapping her arms around him lightly. "Just take that stick out your ass every once in a while and you'd be fine!"  
  
"Oh well." Patch sighed. His partner in mass destruction/reconnaissance was crazy, or so he thought. Too bad he loved her. "Let's go get ourselves killed, shall we?"  
  
Mock bowing and offering an arm to her friend, Kira smiled. "Yes sir."

* * *

Hi, I'm Rain. Here is my pitiful attempt to tell you how this began. This is my story, after all, and I have to start somewhere.   
  
Hmmm...  
  
I really don't know how it first began.   
  
But I have to start somewhere.  
  
It was the dreams, first of all. The dreams that were so vivid real life seemed to pale by comparison. I find myself unable to concentrate in work, school, even battle situations - various instructors have marked me as a 'constant daydreamer', quote.   
  
I guess it was part of the drop at not being accepted, when peers laugh at you and nobody cares, that it was a relief to just slip out of reality and see stars.   
  
Literally. Stars. When I dream I see the universe.   
  
If it were just a one-time thing I wouldn't feel so weird about it. But constantly, day in, day out, I see myself falling, falling through space and time, seeing the creation and death of stars, of planets, of universes...   
  
When it's not about stars, I see only one thing.   
  
A triangle within a circle, glowing white.   
  
It's awful, actually. One minute I'm hearing the instructor talking about geometrical shapes and patterns and how they relate to battle strategy, the next I'm seeing a triangle within a circle blaze up in my field of vision and everything else is black.   
  
At first I thought I was going crazy. After all, there was Steve, who had gone slightly insane after they punished him for stealing one of the Headmaster's award medals. They locked him in a cell with no source of light, food or water for three days. He was removed from the academy a few days later after developing acute schizophrenia.  
  
Well, be the best, or get left in the dust. A military academy is a vicious place, what with everybody strangling and backstabbing each other just to get on top. Sucking up is not something you do when you feel like it, it's something you do regularly to senior officers.   
  
I was determined to succeed, even with my dreaming problem. You see, daydreamers don't have a very good rep around here - the last dreamer in the academy had been staring off into space during a live ammo exercise and had not stopped dreaming when the bullet hit him. So I set out to prove differently, that I could be a good soldier after all, if one that dreams constantly. Soldiers are not supposed to dream. We're trained to be cold, emotionless killing machines. We are the elite. I was different. But I was determined not to be.   
  
Since then, I've been training hard every day in my own free time in the gym. Weird, really. It's not like I enjoy it, punching and kicking sandbags until they threaten to burst. I guess it was the one thing that helped me concentrate. I find that I'm never dreaming when I'm training.  
  
Weapons were good, too. No sharp bladed stuff for the junior cadets, but I practised beating stuff up with a wooden kendo staff. It feels a hell of a lot better than slamming bricks with your bare hands. Oh yeah.  
  
The teachers never failed to notice that I disappeared during my spare time - one saw me practice, and helped my form. Not bad, since he took me out with a staff strike to the head while he sparred with me. Unarmed combat my ass.   
  
All this talent was put to good use a few days later when a bunch of morons jumped me, presumably to try and flush my head in the toilet again. Fools.   
  
They were in the hospital wing for weeks, in various states of pain. Oh well. They left me alone after that. The whole thing was basically ignored by the academy department... how bad is that? Well, I guess that's how things work in a battle academy. No strict discipline for bullying whatsoever.   
  
Also, I'm an orphan. Ever mention that? Lived in an orphanage until I was 13, where I was accepted at the SFMA.  
  
Oh. Well, if you don't know, I never knew my parents. I really hope I'll find home someday.   
  
Because this isn't home. I'm not accepted here and probably never will be. I hear the others joking behind my back about people adopting me, but really. When you're a 17 year-old with no hope, life is a dull and dreary place. Except for the dreams.   
  
The only thing which I can remember my parents by is this weird pendant they gave me. It's quite cool, really It's some sort of clear bluish stone set in a silver frame, in the shape of a teardrop. How friggin' symbolic.

* * *

The guard walked about on the upper levels of the Imperial Guard building that had been hastily erected to hide the fact that the Imperialists had discovered something large and incredible.   
  
Whistling to himself, he lit up a cigarette, breathing in the fresh aroma of tar, nicotine, and other assorted chemicals. Too bad he didn't notice the wire hanging down from the roof.   
  
His neck broke with a wet crack as Kira hung upside down from her pocket mesh titanium wire and made a spinning movement with her hands. Smiling at a job well done, the spy operative dropped down silently. Patch followed, with considerably more noise.   
  
"Patch, can you get me a map of this place?" Kira whispered, taking mental note of all the white-robed scientists hurrying about on the lower level with the Imperial diamond insignia tattooed on their foreheads.   
  
"Nope, smartass. You're on your own."  
  
"So... a distraction?"  
  
"Yep... the bigger it is, the better."  
  
"No problem..." Kira mumbled as she searched her belt pouches for any suitable materia. Grasping a yellow orb, she slipped it quickly into an empty slot on her glove, where it began to glow. "Phantasms that dwell in the mind of man, images of life and love which we so covet, be unreal and yet seen! Illusion!"  
  
Instantly, a platoon of about 10 O7 Chaos Mech units appeared outside the building.   
  
Kira counted nearly five seconds before the alarm sounded among the Imperial Guard. Men rushed to battle stations. Mobile guns were loaded and locked.   
  
The single Imperial MEDUSA mech was prepped and launched. Troops vacated the building in droves, eager to battle the Rebellion O7 foe.   
  
Which left behind a skeleton guard of about two dozen Imperials.   
  
Patch smirked as he vaulted the railing between the upper floor and the lower floor. Whirling to face a group of three of the guard, the O7 officer let rip with his MiG, mowing them down in a hail of bullets. Two fell with small red holes punctured in their crisp blue Imperial uniforms. The third pulled a plasma weapon and returned fire. Streams of tracer zoomed past the hulking man's form as the guard shot again and again, nervousness making him a poor shot.   
  
Which was just too bad, since it meant that he wasn't watching his back.   
  
Kira retrieved her knife from where it had embedded itself into the guard's back, smirking. Turning him around and finishing him off with a slash to the throat in a spray of blood, she stole his weapon and shot up another guard who had sneaked up behind Patch.   
  
"That's a nice gun." Kira smiled wickedly. "I think I'll keep it."   
  
"C'mon, we gotta get to the machine and set the bomb!"  
  
"Alright, alright." The girl rejoined her partner, but not before grabbing the plasma gun and holstering it on her belt. Rubbing one of her Materia gently, she began a clairmancy spell.   
  
A small orb of light formed before her as she invoked the magic. Seekers were one of the most basic forms of Light magic, summoning a small globe of light that would lead you to anything.   
  
The Seeker zoomed off down the corridor, a veritable comet. The two took off after it, running quickly.  
  
"...W-why are those things always so damn fast?" Patch grunted, clutching a stitch in his side as he struggled to keep up.

* * *

Life really has strange ways of getting to you, huh?   
  
I was about to hit 18, finally getting out of the SFMA junior section and graduating with awards, staff combat commendation among them. I was an awful student otherwise, because of my daydreaming problem, so I didn't get into university either. So I found myself out on the streets with no work and no cash. The only opening was back into the SFMA - senior section and eventually full elite army duty.  
  
But that's not important. Because here we see another major player in this story - Alex.   
  
Alexandria, or Alex as she liked to be called, was a cool character. She was one of the most popular females in the academy, voted prom queen, and one of the famous academy track team members.   
  
Not all of the SFMA graduates go to work in the army. It's known for its militant structure and strict training regimen, and that's probably why some good athletes have come from the SFMA. This would have probably been her future, had she not been in this tangled web that is this story.  
  
No, that's not what I'm implying. If you think this is just another one of my fantasies, go away. She's not a love interest to me.   
  
Well, can't you see the difference? She's like, royalty, or that far away. Compared to her, I'm just Rain the lowly stable boy. Blah.   
  
So, it was the last day of cadethood and onto graduation, a.k.a. academy field day.   
  
If this were your school, you would have one of two reactions. Either 1) COOL! Where do I sign up? Or, even 2) boring.  
  
But a sports day at the toughest military academy in the world cannot be boring. You might not even recognise it if it was not painted on the big sign at the academy gates.  
  
First, you have the shooting events - paintballing in teams, sharpshooting, and then the combat events - unarmed combat, bladed combat, fencing, and staff combat and along with ALLLLLL of that stuff, you get the track events.  
  
As usual, I joined the staff combat and paintballing. No point in going if you weren't going to do anything. Shot up a couple of guys, got shot, tried to get the paint off myself but failed until I got blasted with a hose it was fun. I lost in staff combat, though, since some of the senior pupils decided to join and triple-teamed me into submission.   
  
After it's all over, I hang around a bit, in some hope of finding someone to talk to. No luck there. So I just sit there like an idiot, and fall into a dream.   
  
You see my problem now?  
  
It was the stars again. Falling in some weird direction through space, a human satellite. But this time, somehow, I seemed to be falling in a particular direction. First come the universes. Then, a galaxy among the others I manage to pick out - our very own Milky Way. Then stars, dying and being reborn, and there! A healthy star, seeming to glow among the rest, relatively small. Around it swing nine planets, and I seem to be falling towards the third planet from the sun -   
  
I awake, to the shock of the cold night air hitting my face like an iron bar. Shivering lightly with the cold, I make my way out of the track stadium the school rented for the afternoon and find the fence locked.   
  
No problem for a cadet fresh from graduation. I grab a few handfuls of lattice, and in a few seconds, I have scaled the fence and stand precariously on the top of it, balancing.   
  
Then I hear the yell.  
  
"Get OFF me, you BASTARDS!"  
  
It is a sound vaguely familiar, of one I hear at the academy, and what I see, perching atop the fence, is criminal.   
  
Our SFMA high's very own Alexandria is being pinned down by a trio of thugs, obviously transfixed by her body for some reason. As I watch, she breaks away, only to be caught by a fourth person rounding her off.   
  
Even from here I could smell the bitterness of alcohol in the air. I can see the thugs, getting ready to -   
  
- Oh my god.   
  
Alex screams.  
  
I had to stop it, so I did the valiant thing, and leapt off the fence like an idiot. Landing and nearly stumbling on unsteady feet, I talk in slow, measured tones.   
  
"Get off her."  
  
Even the morons currently pinning down the girl are grinning at me as I make the statement which sounds like the dumbest of my life. They grin, and the ones not holding Ms. Track Star pull knives and sharpened thumbscrews from their pockets.   
  
Some small part of my brain poses a question - why aren't the guys all flat out and KO'ed by now? Alex is a SFMA cadet as well although she isn't a graduate yet   
  
The nearest fathead rushes me, moving with the disturbing speed of the obese. A fist narrowly misses me as I dodge, grab the offending pudgy hand, pull, overbalance, and kick. The heavy man is thrown backwards, but he lunges again, knife upraised in his hand. I kick it, grab the falling weapon and throw it into the nearest tree. My fist slams into his jaw as I disarm him, again and again, until I finish with a low kick that sweeps his feet out from under him. Jumping up, I land on his chest. I hear a series of wet cracks as I step off.   
  
I see my training has paid off.   
  
"Damn, lookit what the little shite did to Keith! Let's get 'im!"  
  
The other three look at each other, then two of them lunge for me at once. Big mistake - that meant they let go of Alex. In a flash, she spins, kicking one towards me with a powerful blow. Grabbing the other and twisting his arm behind his back in a classic police manuever, she disarms him of his knife and holds it to his throat.  
  
The one I am faced with is dazed - perfect. I leap over him, slamming a palm strike onto his cranium, causing instant concussion and sending him into the floor. As he falls, I grab him in a roll and fling him into the nearest tree. KO. 50 points, Rain scores.  
  
There was only one left, and a sweeping punch combo took care of him.  
  
The dense thug that Alex held realized he was hopelessly outclassed, and began to beg for mercy. Alex, seemingly annoyed, presses the knife deeper into the skin of his neck, drawing a tiny trickle of blood.   
  
" oh shit... I don't wanna die, man! I was jus' playin'... " A large dark wet stain spreads out from his crotch and starts to drip on the grass. Distastefully, Alex lets him go, and he runs, but too late - in the blink of an eye, the knife sprouts from the small of his back.  
  
I sigh and turn to the girl. She has suffered no harm, except for her clothing, which is hanging off her in places. I look away, feeling my face burn with the unfamiliar feeling of a blush.   
  
After a few seconds in which she redressed herself (literally), she continued.   
  
"Good work! Thanks for helping out."  
  
I turn away, and begin to stalk off.   
  
"Geez, can't you take a compliment?" Her words sting me with the shock of truth.  
  
"Why do you care?" My retort is just as barbed. I continue to walk away.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I don't really know."  
  
Actually, I'm just off to the large field the park has in one area. It's one of the places I can be alone and think. About my dreams. Alex followed. 


	2. DISK I: w3lc0m3 t0 m1 w0rld

The Seeker zoomed uninhibitedly through the narrow corridors of the Imperial base, followed closely by two individuals whose only aim was to basically destroy everything in their way.  
  
"Patch, over here!" Kira yelled, along with a quick spell. "Hell fire that blazes deep beneath the earth, come here and obey my command! Deliver your judgement upon those that I desire! _DiFire_!"  
  
The two remaining guards standing at attention in front of the fireproof steel door marked 'Top Secret - Access Level Beta only' vanished in a swirl of flame as the spell hit them.   
  
"Shit thinking, Kira," Patch muttered sarcastically while pumping another guard full of lead. "Fire spells on a metal door? You should know better. How are we supposed to open the door now?"  
  
The girl replied by kicking the door open in a flurry of sparks and hot metal.   
  
"Like this!" The O7 agent grinned. Patch had no reply, as he followed. And stared. And stared. And stared some more.   
  
"...great goddess..." He heard Kira mutter behind him. "It actually exists..."  
  
She had a right to be surprised. In front of the two, a vertical cylinder of pure light flickered, suspended between two massive power generators linked into the ground and the roof respectively. The whole thing was about five metres tall and about as thick as a redwood around. At the base of the cylinder, enclosed in a tube of pure fiberglass, was a circular platform with a large emblem in the middle - a triangle in a perfect circle.  
  
"The Reality Engine..." Patch murmured, struck with awe.   
  
Kira was just as mystified... their mission had not been certified. They were only told that the O7 must not allow the Imperials to discover the secrets of the Reality Engines, which was partially impossible, since Reality Engines did not exist - they were just a myth.   
  
But this... this thing that stood in front of them now, shivering with barely contained power, could not be denied.   
  
The brown-haired girl strode over to the large steel table next to the row of computer consoles the Imperial Empire had set up to study the Reality Engine. Riffling through large stacks of notes, including energy equations, time-space graphs, and uses for the Engine itself, all marked with the Imperial diamond insignia, Kira's mind worked at hyperspeed, taking it all in.   
  
"They've only discovered this thing for a few weeks," Patch noted the date on one of the pages. "They can't have gotten that far with the research."   
  
"Look here!" Kira exclaimed. "They know how to operate this thing! But there is a security lock that the Ancients built in... They somehow need some sort of key to fully control it, otherwise it'll keep opening up at random."  
  
"What type of key?" Patch couldn't resist from asking.   
  
Kira ran a hand through her hair. "Knowing the Ancients, probably a human sacrifice or something."  
  
A different voice cut the air, cold and chilling.  
  
"Close, but not quite. It's actually a hidden object in one of the parallel universes - the thing known as the Dragon's Tear."

* * *

**  
  
=14 =4745Y 3417Y  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk 1ne: 2w0: w3lc0me t0 m1 w0rld  
  
**

* * *

The two O7 agents whirled at the sound of the voice.   
  
"Did you really think your illusion could fool us for that long?" The woman asked. She was obviously a scientist, as seen from the long white coat she wore. But, strangely, she did not have the typical Imperial diamond tattooed on her forehead. "Overconfident. Headstrong. Typical Rebellion scum."   
  
Kira nearly let loose a spell at that comment, but then noticed the small red laser sights focused on Patch's body and her own. From the shadows, nearly 40 elite Alpha Imperial troops showed themselves. They were the best and the brightest - the Empire's most powerful ground shocktroopers.   
  
Patch took a deep breath. "We're fucked."  
  
But he gently twitched an eyebrow at Kira as he spoke. Kira caught the gesture and began to mutter gently under her breath.  
  
The big man spoke up, quite casually for someone who had at least 20 high-powered scope rifles aimed at him. "I don't believe we have had the flamin' pleasure of being acquainted. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Patch, and this young un' here is Kira."   
  
"Charmed." The female scientist smiled with no mirth. "I am Dr. Catherine Shaw. Now if you would just step away from the Reality Engine - there is a large unstable quantity of magical radiation emitting from it that would be fatal to any-"  
  
She never got to finish her sentence.   
  
First, Patch's hand moved, quick as lightning, towards the shotgun behind his back. A quick flick of the wrist, and the gun sprung into his hand as if it had been kicked. Kira, who had been building up magical energy ever since the exchange had begun, let her spell loose, muttering the chant as quickly as she dared.   
  
"Almighty souls, protect your humble servant! Barrier!"  
  
Instantly a shield of blue light formed around the duo as the Imperial elite fired again and again, bullets peppering uselessly against the magical forcefield as the two moved.   
  
Patch was a big man, but he moved quickly when motivated, and a group of bullets peppering right in your face stopped only by a flickering magical shield was obviously sufficient motivation. A few strides and he was in the thick of them.   
  
Spinning on his heel, he blasted one with the shotgun at close range. The Imperial trooper was sent flying by the sheer force of the impact of the explosive shell going clean through his body. Patch racked the pump and blew another one to kingdom come. The man's head exploded, spattering the formerly white wall in an interesting new colour that would have been dubbed hint of brain. The O7 operative winced. Messy.  
  
Shooting twice more, Patch dived for cover behind the Reality Engine as bullets and streams of tracer blasted away sections of the wall behind him. He thanked his lucky stars for the Barrier spell, which was fast wearing off. Taking the time to reload, he winced when a stream of bullets shattered the fiberglass cylinder behind him.   
  
"DON'T SHOOT THE ENGINE, YOU _FOOLS!!!"_ Catherine yelled in frustration, even as she drew her own .44 Magnum and tried to draw a bead on Kira. But the Barrier was still in effect. Even as it faded, the scientist whipped off her lab overcoat and drew a long knife with Materia slots in the handle.   
  
The Imperial scientist began her own spell, keeping her blade parallel to her body. "Aurora, exhale bloody air, call forth your tainted light! Shadow Flare!"  
  
Tiny motes of black eldritch fire began to burn around the Imperialist as she spoke. They concentrated and formed a cluster of pure shadow fire that streaked straight for Kira. She dodged, but only partly, as the flare of dark light caught her on her left side and blasted her straight backwards into the wall.   
  
Kira coughed blood as she extracted herself from the smouldering wall, muttering a short cure spell as she stood.   
  
"Not bad, bitch... My turn. Fierce powers of nature, absolute raw anger of the heavens, unleash destruction upon all infidels! TriBolt!"  
  
A wide beam of electricity flared to life in the O7 operative's hands, catching the scientist in its full glare, pumping raw voltage through every nerve in her body. When it cleared, Catherine was fighting to keep alive. Everything hurt.   
  
Kira smiled. "It's over. Give up the machine, and everything will be alright."   
  
"Never! Wind, come and blow with limitless strength, turn into a hurricane, drive my enemies far away! DiAero!"   
  
Kira was caught unawares. The (relatively) powerful winds buffeted her and carried her all the way into the Reality Engine's platform. The fiberglass barrier should have stopped her, but, thanks to Patch's ongoing battle with the Imperial troops, it was non-existent.   
  
The girl groaned as she felt a few of her ribs snap from the impact of her body on the Reality Engine's platform. Then she realized where she was, and shut up, crawling frantically to get out of the transport area.   
  
**SENSOR PAD ACTIVATED. ENERGY SOURCE: 80%. BEGIN CHARGE. WARNING: KEY NOT PRESENT. COORDINATES UNSTABLE.** A mechanised voice said coldly.   
  
The Imperial doctor's blood ran cold as she realized what was about to happen. Drawing on her last resources of strength, she chanted a spell, hoping she would be in time.   
  
**ENERGY SOURCE: 90%. WARNING: KEY NOT PRESENT. COORDINATES UNSTABLE.  
**  
"Send her soul to rest, may it join its brothers in the land of the dead! Cut short its stay, oh Gods, and end her life with mercy! Take her now, for her purpose in this world is finished! Reap this soul, draw her into darkness and let her see light no more! Death!"  
  
The face of Death appeared, a grinning skull holding the spark of life that was Kira's soul in its mouth, but as it closed it's mouth to devour the spirit, the energy built up in the Engine hit maximum charge.  
  
** ENERGY SOURCE: 100%. TRANSMITTING.  
**  
A veritable supernova exploded in the lower levels of the Imperial building. Magical energy crackled and flared, time and space warping within the triangle emblem. Blue energy exploded upwards into the sky, vaporizing a sizeable chunk of the roof as it went. As the explosion expanded and grew, the troopers who turned to run were destroyed, their shadows burned permanently into the ground.   
  
Patch noticed the explosion and turned to run, ducking for cover in a wide ventilation shaft and only just reaching it in time as the blue light expanded, devouring everything in its path.

* * *

I lay on my back and imagined stars.   
  
Okay, maybe not imagined. I dreamed of them, massive orbs of superhot gas swirling through the emptiness.   
  
Hitting the play button on my Walkman, I closed my eyes as a surge of pure sound assaulted my eardrums, threatening to pop them from sheer pressure. Metallica. Ah, excellent.   
  
I look up just in time to see the face of Alex peering into my line of vision. She seems concerned, for some reason. I ignore her and turn the volume up a notch.   
  
"Why did you help me?" She asks. I pretend I can't hear her, even though it is partially true, as strains of heavy metal ring my ears.   
  
Actually, I really don't know why I saved her. Maybe it was some sort of odd hero fantasy? I'm not sure, you know, just walk in, save the girl, and walk off? Naah. It's gotta be, like, they marry, then they live happily ever after. Although it's never really 'happily ever after'. You've got to think about strife, about family arguments, about divorce, about pain, about the house, the kids, the family benefits, and the money...  
  
Not for the first time, I wonder what a terrible age we live in.   
  
She pokes my chest, and I feel it painfully through my thin shirt as I gasp.   
  
"Hey, are you ignoring me?"  
  
Huh. YES! Let me spell it out for you, Y-E-S.   
  
"No."  
  
"Why did you help me? I didn't need your help back there."  
  
Talk about gratitude.  
  
"Um... I dunno."  
  
This is really awkward. It's like, you know, you never know what to say at the right moments. So, instead, I start another topic, thumbing the stop button on my Walkman.  
  
"You ever have dreams?"   
  
"Sometimes."  
  
Cryptic. I like that.   
  
"Any weird ones?"  
  
"A few... most of my dreams are about things I want to happen. Like winning a medal at the Olympics, or something."  
  
Typical girl.   
  
"Dream on."  
  
"That's mean!" Her face twists into a frown.   
  
"No, I mean it. Dream on. You never know, some dreams might actually come true someday."  
  
"Thanks. It's been a long time since I've had a decent compliment."  
  
"No way... You're the academy track star, and you have trouble getting compliments?" I laugh.   
  
"I mean a real compliment. It's always 'Whoa, you're so good at running', or 'You look really attractive'. It's so shallow. It's been ages since I've had a compliment on my thoughts and beliefs."   
  
I smile at her genuinely now. She's so likeable.  
  
"Oh well. Me, I'm not good at anything. All I have are my thoughts and dreams."  
  
"Yeah right." Her tone is disbelieving. "You're a level 5 junior graduate at the SFMA, one of the toughest, knock-down, drag-out military training academies in the world, and you say you don't have a talent? At least you've graduated. I haven't."  
  
"It's not talent. It's practice. Lots of it. And my determination to prove to the bastard headmaster that dreamers are human as well."  
  
She turns to me with a sympathetic look on her face.   
  
"You didn't have to help, you know."  
  
"Are you kidding? Ms. Popular has to get her own hands dirty beating up the neighbourhood scum?" I laugh.  
  
"I'm not joking." Her face is serious.  
  
She continues to talk, and as she chatters, I begin to understand the pressures of life on her, constantly trying to go with the flow and remain popular, not understanding true happiness.   
  
But then the headache splits my skull like a sledgehammer and starts to pound away.   
  
Stopping, she looks at my face, contorted into one of pure agony.  
  
"Are you alright?" She places a hand on my shoulder.   
  
I fling her off, struggle to my feet, and scream, as the ground opens up beneath us to show blackness and lightning and...

* * *

A lone man crawls out from among the wreckage and destruction of the Imperial building, seemingly unconcerned with all the flames and smaller explosions. All about him shadows are burned into the ground. Strangely, the Reality Engine is untouched, except for the shards of fiberglass scattered here and there, while the room is destroyed.  
  
Patch reaches the machine's console and slams a fist into the keyboard, denting it slightly. A single tear drops from his face as he holds his head in his hands.   
  
"Oh, god, no... KIRA!!!"  
  
But then his attention is drawn to the small message flashing red on the monitor - **SUBJECT TRANSMITTED TO REALITY #HA666 CODENAME HADES.**  
  
Remembering, some of her last words rang in his mind. They somehow need some sort of key to fully control it, otherwise it'll keep opening up at random. The memory comes unbidden, floating on a wave of pain and loss.   
  
Desperately, he leafed through notes. There must be a key, there must be... Grabbing an unharmed file labelled 'TOP SECRET' and with a smaller note attached to it; 'For Dr. Shaw'; he opened it and found all the details.   
  
Dr. Catherine Shaw was an accomplished Imperial scientist and mage, which was certain. She was capable of casting high-level spells such as shadow magic, but why would that be a reason to post her to the Reality Engine branch... It didn't make sense until he discovered a faded picture showing a glowing jewel, along with a tiny materia orb.   
  
The pieces of the puzzle all fit together.   
  
The Imperialists needed the Key - that Dragon's Tear Dr. Shaw had been referring to. To get the Key, since it was in an alternate universe, they needed the good doctor to cast a certain spell to pull the Key from that universe. That spell was right there, along with the materia, in the folder.   
  
"Oh..." The last word was unclear, but it was quite unlikely that it was 'fudge'.   
  
Patch sighed. This was the only way to get the Key without using the Engine itself, and you needed the Key to control the Engine correctly. Concentrating hard, he placed the materia the base of his gun, sweat trickling down his brow. It had been a long time since he had cast a spell... and that materia was one of the most draining to cast... plus it was a one-use only... incredibly rare...  
  
It was too late. He had already made his decision - get the Key, and use it to recover Kira from someplace called HA666 or whatever.   
  
"Time, space, bend, flow, and break at my command! Unseal that place between places, unseal the world where they wait in sleep for the Call, unseal here and there and send this one through! _Remove_!"  
  
The portal opened in another reality.

* * *

Pain.   
  
The pain.   
  
Patch later explained it to me, you know, something about space being filled to reconcile the difference of time, or it would imbalance the scale or whatever.   
  
If that doesn't mean anything to you... well, imagine having your mind and body ripped apart. Shattered. Reduced to individual cells. Blasted to subatomic particles. Piped through a magical hole in space-time and then fused back together.   
  
Yes, ow.  
  
All I could see was space warping around me, the infinite blackness bending and twisting. I could see the rest of my body being broken up into atoms as what was left of my head went hurtling through space. Beside me, I could see Alex going through the same treatment. I think she was screaming. Or was that me?   
  
I passed out.

* * *

Patch braced himself against the natural rush of weakness that he felt after performing such a draining spell. It hit him in waves, forcing him down on his knees. His gun felt too heavy to lift. Looking at the materia orb in his hand, which crumbled to dust as he peered at it, he collapsed on his back and waited for the results.   
  
He did not have long to wait. Crackling with magical energy, a swirling portal opened, discharging two teenagers forcefully across the destroyed room. They went flying, landing in a jumble of arms and legs.   
  
The boy looked about dazedly. He was a slim, lanky teen in fairly good shape, dressed in a T-shirt proclaiming 'it is better to keep your mouth shut and appear an idiot than to open it and prove beyond all doubt', and a denim jacket. More importantly, around his neck on a silver chain hung a blue stone set in silver - the Key.  
  
The girl was a blonde, fairly attractive from the O7 operative's point of view, and wearing an odd mix of wear that served both a formal and casual purpose- a white blouse and a pair of dark, formfitting slacks.   
  
She was screaming.   
  
"-AAAAAAAHHHH!!!" The harsh yell of the young blonde pierced Patch's eardrums like a bell, unerring in pitch, grating on the very nerves. More importantly, a rush of booted feet was heard stampeding in the corridor, attracted by the sound of the voice.   
  
Patch clamped a sweaty hand over her mouth to stop Alex screaming. She nearly bit him, but tasted a mixture of petrol, grease, blood, and sweat on her lips - not a good combination. The boy groaned, holding one hand to his head painfully, feeling a migraine coming on.   
  
The big man sweated, grasping on to his gun and holding it tightly. He didn't have enough time to tell the kid all... Suddenly, he remembered a line from one of his days in training: his first spy mission. Silence was the key... silence...  
  
Bracing himself once more and hoping he had enough energy left for this, he muttered another chant, this time without materia, calling on the spirits in the building itself. Using a long-lost art of the Ryukin, he spoke.   
  
"Ancient spirits, empower the shield that gives death to sound and sense! _Silence Wall_!"  
  
A glimmering purple shield flashed into existence over the door, effectively sealing off any sound or light that might escape the room. A second rush of weakness hit Patch almost directly, and he swore loudly. "This is why I hate spells."  
  
Struggling to his feet, he groaned. The Wall would only delay the Imperial guards for a few minutes. He didn't have enough time to explain...  
  
Patch's soldier instincts were blaring red-hot klaxon alarms in his mind, for some particular reason. Acting on pure reflex, he dived for the ground.   
  
Bullets slammed hard, with a sharp crack, into the wall behind him. Looking for his attacker, he spun round only to face Catherine herself, back on her feet and pointing her Magnum at him with serious intent to kill. She was grinning madly.   
  
"And here I thought I was going to have to cast the spell myself! Then you come along, summon the Key, and save me all the trouble! Now all that remains is to kill you all and take the Dragon's Tear!"  
  
Patch pondered his options. Fighting Catherine now, with two helpless teenagers in the room, was a high liability. Plus, casting the Remove spell and the Wall had already weakened him.   
  
His gaze fell on an empty Imperial armored jeep off to the side.   
  
Grunting with the effort, he slung Rain and Alex over his shoulders and ran for the vehicle. Bullets whizzed past his head, coming dangerously close. Wrenching open the car door and flinging the kids inside like so much useless baggage, he paused for a few seconds.   
  
A .44 caliber Devastator lead slug hit him in his left shoulder. Patch grunted, ignoring the pain. Blood trickled in thick rivulets down his arm as he slammed the door.   
  
Plucking a frag grenade from his belt with his good arm, he heaved it in the direction the bullets were coming from. Flinging himself into the car, he crashed through the wall of the building and crunched gravel.   
  
Catherine ran for cover as the grenade exploded, knocking her off her feet. The rush of superheated air and hot metal fragments shot everywhere.   
  
She cursed. "The President is not going to like this."  
  
Outside, Patch swerved as the perimeter guard towers came alive with floodlights and automatic machineguns, chattering wildly and spitting a stream of bullets everywhere. Hot metal slugs buried themselves in the pavement as he desperately sought the exit. Running over a guard who had been stupid enough to get in his way with an audible crunch, he smashed through the reinforced steel gates, driving away to freedom and safety.

* * *

I awoke to darkness.   
  
For a second I thought of the blackness of space, dotted with stars, then I forced myself awake.   
  
I was relieved when a familiar voice spoke from the darkness.   
  
"Rain. You're awake!"  
  
Hooboy. Alex was there with me. A headache hit me like a train, unstoppable and painful. My skull throbbed with the pain.   
  
"Where are we?" Alex spoke, sounding remarkably chipper for someone who had been thrown through space and time to land god-knows-where. So I did the obvious.  
  
"How the hell should I know?"  
  
The room was small and dark. A window looked out on the night sky. It would have been decent, if the door hadn't been locked and bolted from the outside. Oh yeah, there were bars on the windows as well. Perfect paradise. Literally a five-star hotel.  
  
Groaning, I reached for my CD player, hoping to find some refuge in the heavy metal.   
  
Alex's eyes shone eerily in the darkness. "They took our stuff. Even your Walkman. My bag's gone as well."  
  
Swearing loudly, I stumbled to my feet, groping blindly for the door.  
  
"Why are we in this room?"  
  
"I don't know." It was Alex's turn to reciprocate. "We were in a field, then, you started screaming..."  
  
"Yeah, I know, the ground opened up, and I saw my body breaking up into bits." I muttered.  
  
"That was SO weird. It hurt, too."  
  
"Oh, yeah, I saw this big dude. He was massive, and looked like he really meant business. He had lots of guns, too."  
  
I started muttering to myself. I really must be going insane, you know... this must be still a dream. A really weird one, yeah, but still a dream. It's got to be. I'm in a dark room with the most popular girl in academy high, held captive by... who knows?  
  
Oh well. I reached for my pendant, feeling the familiar weight of it against my palm. It was strangely comforting. The girl next to me noticed as well.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Oh... just the only thing my parents left me."  
  
"Really?" She sounded surprised. "I've got a picture of them somewhere in my bag..."  
  
I interrupted. Call me rude if you may, but I can't stand people relating family history. It hurts too much when I realize I never knew my family.   
  
"Let's get out of here." Finding the door, I gave it an experimental tap with a knuckle. It was a heavy metal door with iron rivulets, but the edges of the wall were slightly crumbly...  
  
I gathered my energy and gave it a strong kick. Some dust fell loose from the sides. A small dent appeared in the door. Sighing, I tried again, but was met with the same result.   
  
"Mind if I try?" Alex again. Seriously, she thinks she's so useless when she's not doing anything.   
  
She spins around into a flawless roundhouse, following it up with a two-punch combo, slamming her fists powerfully into the metal in a flurry of dust. Not much else happens, though.   
  
"How about if we try together? Just one of us isn't going to be enough. And imagine the look on Instructor MacArthur's face if two of his pupils got defeated by a doorframe." I smile lightly.  
  
After a few seconds thought, we slam our feet against the door simultaneously. The door proves to be no match for two pent up teenagers, and slams off its hinges, flying out...  
  
Into the face of a guy wearing battle armor and holding a really big rifle.   
  
"Shit, Alex."

* * *

The face of the O7 leader Commander Frost bulged purple with rage. Patch withstood the verbal assault calmly, occasionally wincing slightly as small flecks of spittle flew from Frost's mouth.   
  
Kira used to always make jokes about the commander. According to her, Frost was just a coronary waiting to happen.   
  
Sucking on a particularly noxious cigar and exhaling deeply in a cloud of gray smoke, the commander's face began to return to a more normal 'pissed off' red instead of the 'extremely furious' purple.   
  
"So, Lieutenant Patch Randall, are you trying to tell me that you went on an unauthorized mission into an Imperial area, with squad leader Kira Highwind, failed to destroy the engine itself, and lost one of my best troopers?"  
  
The reply was not slow. "Yes, SIR!"  
  
"And what do you propose I do now?"  
  
"Launch a mission to recover Highwind, SIR!"  
  
"Are you telling me that I should waste more time and resources in order to mount a wild goose chase through time and space to find Ms. Highwind?"  
  
"Sir, yes, SIR!"  
  
"And what makes you believe you can find her?"  
  
"I have the Key to the Engine, SIR!"  
  
A cool, calm voice spoke from the shadows. "Let him go alone. Maybe he will rid us of his recklessness for once."  
  
"Lieutenant Renaku." The commander's voice dropped a notch. "I agree with you, but this man is a good soldier. It would be useless to continue."  
  
"Permission to speak, SIR!" Patch barked. Although they were a rebel group, they still followed strict military protocol.  
  
"Granted." Frost's heated glare turned back to Patch.   
  
"Sir, I believe I have the best chance of succeeding in this mission, SIR!"  
  
"Why, soldier? You are our high explosives expert and one of our best troopers. You nearly destroyed a MEDUSA with your bare hands. Why on earth would you want to throw your life away on a suicide mission?" The voice was condescending.   
  
Patch did not reply.  
  
"I asked you a _QUESTION_, soldier!"  
  
Patch held his silence.  
  
"Sir, I wish to speak to you alone, SIR!"  
  
Renaku saluted and left quietly.  
  
"We are alone, unless there are spiders hiding in the walls. Now, give your reason."  
  
"Sir, I hold affection for squad leader Highwind, SIR!"  
  
For a moment, Commander Frost's eyes met his own. They were eyes that had seen too much, eyes that held more than a hint of sadness. They were eyes that had seen too much battle and not enough hope.   
  
He spoke slowly and heavily. "Go, then, lieutenant. Go kick some ass, and don't come back until you've found Highwind."  
  
Patch held back a smile. "Sir, yes, SIR!"  
  
But his moment of elation was suppressed when a private dashed into the room, shouting.  
  
Frost, impeccable as always, stopped the trooper in his tracks.  
  
"What is the matter, Private Reill?"  
  
The reply was equally shocking. "The prisoners, Commander! They've escaped!"  
  
Patch gasped. They were just kids! How did they...

* * *

I pounded down another corridor, meeting another guard. I jumped around him and kicked him in the back, just as I saw Alex dispatch another with a beautiful rising combo, finishing with a midair suplex.   
  
"Not bad work, for a cadet who hasn't graduated yet." I smiled.  
  
She looked back.   
  
"I trained a long while with the bladed combat instructors. A simple pinch to the nerve clusters at the neck or head can render a man dead or unconscious." She grinned predatorily back.   
  
"They're not shooting." Alex said, interrupting my train of thought and bringing me back to the present.   
  
"What?" Then I noticed the big, big, BIG rifle on one of the unconscious troopers.   
  
"They're not shooting! They've got guns, but they're not plugging us!"  
  
Well, duh.  
  
"That's probably why we're prisoners. They don't want us dead, but they don't want us to escape, either."  
  
"What, like ransom?"  
  
I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, ransom. That's it. They kidnap an orphan for ransom money. They'd probably cough up the cash for you, but I'm hopeless. Maybe they're hoping the SFMA will pay a few million to get us back."  
  
She looked at me coldly.  
  
"Well, I dunno," I replied. "They don't want our money, and these guys have technology like we can't dream of." I gestured to the massive gun - a small, green orb seemed to be plugged where the ammo chamber would normally be. "Let's get our stuff back."  
  
Then the biggest freaking man I had ever seen strode into the adjacent corridor. I swear, at the time he seemed like 8 feet tall. His head scraped the ceiling. And more, at his shoulder was the biggest freaking gun I had ever seen. Liquid coolant bubbled in pipes along its length. He had on, like almost every other guard I had encountered in this place, black body armor with a little 7 in a circle on the left breast.   
  
I recognized him as the guy I saw before I passed out before.   
  
I motioned to Alex to get back.   
  
Then, unexpectedly, he spoke.   
  
"Yo."  
  
That seemed so out of place right then, but I wasn't going to argue with someone who looked like he could take Arnold Schwarzenegger down. He looked like he could take Arnie down, stuff him, and use him for a basketball.  
  
So I answered.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"You dudes sure made one hell of a mess back there." He said, motioning to the prone forms of the guards behind us. "Medic!"  
  
A black haired girl who looked like she was Asian or other stepped out from behind him. She looked incredibly bored. It's like, the look teachers give you sometimes, y'know, the 'why do I even bother' look. Except she was also dressed in battle armor, and had a firearm strapped to her waist.   
  
Then she did something incredible.   
  
She stood, calmly gesturing with one hand. There were a few of the orb thingies attached to her gauntlet; I remember one green and one blue.  
  
She spoke in a clear voice. "Soul of the living world, aid your fallen children! Cure All!"  
  
A misty, sparkly green light appeared from the ground and enveloped the soldiers. Then their bruises faded, and bones fused back together. I remember one guy whose nose I cracked. It snapped back into place with a wet 'squick', and the blood receded back up his nostril. It was so weird.   
  
I heard Alex gasp beside me. Good thing I wasn't the only one who thought something was weird.   
  
The soldiers got up, groaning and whining something about 'blasted magic cures' and 'beaten by a pair of kids'. They trotted off back down the corridor, leaving Alex and me to gape at the Asian 'medic'.   
  
Oh, damn.  
  
"I'm not dreaming, am I?" Alex says. My goddamn thoughts exactly.   
  
The beast of a man gestured to me. "We have to talk."  
  
"No shit." I returned the stare with as much anger and ferocity as I could, which given the circumstances, wasn't much.   
  
The medic spoke up. "Given that your lives are in our hands right now, obeying us would be a good idea."  
  
I laughed again. "Bull. If you had wanted us dead, you wouldn't have taken us prisoner. You would have killed us right there. That tells me something. What the hell do you want from us?"  
  
The man answered quickly. "Not us. You." He pointed at me to emphasise the fact. "I want the Dragon's Tear."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That pendant you wear on your neck like some casual piece of jewellery." The man answered.  
  
"This?" I gestured to the pendant given me by my parents. "I know, it's pretty, but is it worth that much?"  
  
The response was quick. "Hell yeah."  
  
Alex was the one who spoke next. "But it's just a trinket"  
  
The 'medic' cut her off.   
  
"Little girl, there are wars being fought on this planet right now for that little 'trinket'. Men have lived and died for that thing. That is the crystallized tear of Bahamut, the father of dragons. He is a monster, and doesn't cry much, so that's possibly the only one. It has one sole use - to control the gateways between the universes."  
  
I replied. "Wars? Dragons? Man, I don't know what crack you've been smoking, but I want some of that. This is Earth. Terra! The third planet from the star Sol, the solar system, the galaxy Milky Way..."  
  
The medic rubbed her temples, speaking to the man. "This is going to be hard to explain to them, Patch..."  
  
"I know, Yin, just give me a little time." He broke off that conversation and turned to us. "What makes you so sure you are on your Earth?"  
  
I tried to find an answer, but I couldn't.   
  
The one known as 'Patch' spoke. "How about I show you something?"

* * *

'Sakura' Yin followed moodily after the children and Patch. The kids seemed totally shocked, but they were taking it better than she thought they would. Some people were so blind that they would not believe what was blatantly in their faces.   
  
People would not believe the truth, if they didn't want to.  
  
They arrived at Porthole A. Patch keyed in the appropriate passcode, and the giant, blast-proof porthole turned opaque, allowing the view outside to be shown.   
  
The boy uttered a curse.  
  
Outside was a wasteland.   
  
The view outside was one of total destruction. Skyscrapers, torn down and destroyed, lay in the dust, their metal frames marking what was left of once a great human civilization. Rubble was everywhere. Rats and jackals were the only visible signs of life around.   
  
It had been like that since the Five Minute War. Yin still found the view disturbing, even after years of living with it.   
  
A metal sign, scratched and burned slightly, hung by a wire that was threatening to snap. _'NEW YORK'_ was vaguely visible in printed lettering.  
  
It was a dead city. Abandoned by the Ancients, destroyed by their terrible weapons that razed ground and sky and burned flesh away until not even ash was left. Patch had seen only one explosion to equal that power - when the Imperialists had dug up an Ancient weapon from the dust at Vingard. He had been sent to destroy it, and nearly lost his life in the process. Of course, Kira was there to bail him out...  
  
"..." The boy gaped. The girl simply started crying.  
  
Patch spoke. "This is our world. This is the remainder of the world we know. This is our Earth." He spoke firmly, having seen this view many times in the past. "And we need you to help stop the war that is still ravaging the planet today."  
  
The girl was pale, white, and shaking. In contrast, the boy seemed a lot calmer. Patch looked at the boy, and saw a look in his eyes that he knew. It was the look on many O7 troopers' faces when they knew they were about to die. It was the look Patch wore every time he was in a battle situation. And it was the look that Commander Frost had given him a few minutes scarce.   
  
It was the look of someone who had seen too much.  
  
The boy spoke. "I don't care what the hell you want us to do, I still don't know how the hell we got here, I don't know how the hell you healed those guys back there, I don't know where the hell we are, but this place is fucked up."   
  
Patch laughed. He liked the kid better already. "Amen to that. Let me explain a few things. Yin, a few minutes privacy?"  
  
The medic nodded and stepped out.  
  
"Name?"   
  
It took the boy a few seconds to realize he was being addressed. "Me? I'm Rain."   
  
"Is there any more to it?"  
  
"Nope." The boy's face twisted for a second. "Orphan. She's Alex, Alex Winters."  
  
"Alex?"  
  
The girl replied. "...Y..yes..."  
  
Rain sighed. "You'll have to excuse her. I think she's a bit shocked."  
  
The big man nodded. "So was I, the first time I saw this. A hell of a view, huh?"  
  
Rain chuckled. "So. Questions. And I want answers. Not unless you don't want my help. Where. Who. Why. What. And not least, when."  
  
"Ah, the five great questions. And my answers will be just as short. Earth, probably one of the universes you would call 'parallel'. Who? Me and this handy little group of rebels called the O7. Why? Your pendant controls something very freaking special. What? It can control the thing we call a Reality Engine, which can warp people between parallel universes. When? About 40 years after the Five Minute War."  
  
Patch chuckled. So young, and so cynical.  
  
"Look, what the HELL are you talking about?" The boy's voice became more heated. "What the hell is a Reality Engine? And my pendant is just a jewel! It's doesn't do anything, doesn't control anything, it does jack all!"  
  
The girl, who was ignoring the boy's rant and seemed to have recovered from her trance by now, shook her head. "I don't get it. If you need Rain's necklace to control these Reality thingies, how did we get here?"  
  
"Ah. This is where some magic comes in."  
  
The boy interjected. "Magic? But magic isn't real. It's just some poor sop trying to make a living by showing mind tricks."  
  
Patch grinned, showing a mouthful of square teeth. "It's as real as you or me, kid. What you saw just now - that was healing magic. We control magic by using these things we call Materia." He held up a few glowing green orbs. "That's how we can control magic through strength of will. I found a very rare Materia in an enemy base called a 'Remove', it can remove anybody and displace him or her anywhere else. In your case, I directed it to remove you from your universe and send you here."  
  
"Hey, wait." The boy added. "You? Singular? How in the world did Alex end up here as well?"  
  
"I don't know," The big man admitted. "I may have miscast the spell a little - I don't normally cast spells. I rely on good, old, conventional explosive weaponry." He added, tapping the stock of his rifle for emphasis.  
  
Alex still looked curious. "If all you need is the pendant, why not just kill us and take it?"  
  
Rain's eyes widened in shock. "Alex!!!"  
  
Patch laughed out loud. "I wouldn't bring myself to hurt poor defenceless kids such as yourself."  
  
Alex 'hmph'ed. "Defenceless."  
  
The big man laughed, idly flipping his single dreadlock over his shoulder. "Bite me."  
  
The boy arched an eyebrow. "Bullshit. At the end of the day, all you want is the freaking jewel."  
  
The big man replied. "We at O7 believe strongly in free will. Every single trooper in our ranks against the Empire is here by choice. If you don't give us that key, we understand, but a hell of a lot more people are going to die in this war because of it."  
  
"So can you send us back?"  
  
"Nope. That materia is incredibly rare, and is difficult to cast even for accomplished mages. It's one-use only as well. The Imperials must really want to find the Dragon's Tear, if they had to waste one of the world's rarest Materia."  
  
"So you can't send us back." There was more than a hint of disbelief in Rain's voice. "You forcibly remove us from our home world and place us here, in this dump, then you say you can't send us back. Free will my ass."  
  
Patch's eyes narrowed for a second. "The Reality Engine is still here. If you get to it and use the Dragon's Tear, you can be sent back to your universe."  
  
It was the girl's turn to speak. "So you're saying that we have to use the Reality Engine anyway to get home."  
  
The man nodded heavily. "Yep." The final piece. They would be forced to use the Engine anyway.   
  
"No freaking WAY!!!" Rain yelled. "Look, this pendant is NOTHING!!! It was given to me by my PARENTS!!! IT IS NOT A KEY, IT IS NOT A LOTTERY TICKET, IT IS NOT A DRAGON-FREAKING-TEAR!!! IT IS A PENDANT!!! NOTHING MORE!!!"  
  
Patch moved, with the odd fluid rigidity he was known for. In one quick movement, he had grabbed the pendant, the weak chain snapping off Rain's neck, until the massive trooper held the Dragon's Tear in his hand. It seemed tiny in his browned palm. He closed his fist with a crunching sound.   
  
Rain started. "Give it back, you-"  
  
Patch opened his palm. Lying amidst shards of blue stone, completely undamaged, lay a small silver shape, what was left of the pendant. Rain paused. The shape was that of a triangle within a circle - the image in his dreams.  
  
Patch shrugged. "I'm tellin' you it is. If it is, well, you get to go home. If it isn't, well, damn. Life isn't fair, kid. I learned that when nearly all my family was killed and I was left for dead."  
  
Rain sat down on the stone floor and put his head in his hands. "I can't believe this is happening."  
  
Alex motioned to Patch. "Let me talk to him."  
  
She knelt down beside Rain. "I don't understand this. I don't get this magic, this... this ...place..." Her voice shuddered a little as she remembered the view she had seen out the blastproof window. "But I do know this. Remember your training?"  
  
"Why did you help me beat up those punks back there?"  
  
Rain did not look at her.   
  
"Ever since we got admitted into the academy we were fighting for only our graduation. Now we got a chance to fight for something, and I'm not going to give it up. Are you with me? Look, this dragon crap BS could be fake, but here we got a chance to test our skills and beat the hell out of some people! What have you got at home that you treasure?"  
  
The boy sighed.  
  
"Talk to me, Rain."  
  
"Nothing. Just me, this pendant here, and my Walkman." The boy replied, after a lengthy pause.  
  
"You helped me knock those drunks around because you wanted to test your skills in combat. In other words, showing off. But what's beating up some jerks in a park gonna do? Here, you're gonna save a world, Rain, and this is showing off. You just passed SFMA. Good job. Now do what you're trained to do." Alex waited to see the reactions of her words on the angst teen.  
  
Patch looked at her fiery spirit and saw something he admired - an absolute confidence in herself, no fear at all. Kind of like a tiger - a tiger could be surprised, shocked, or even subdued, but they never lost their confidence in themselves and their skills.  
  
He spoke. "The Imperials are trying to use the Engine to rebuild the power that the Ancients had - that of weapons so powerful their explosions go for miles around. Nuclear weapons with incredibly high destructive capability. We have to stop that from happening. They believe they can steal the technology from other parallel universes. Plus, who knows what other items they can loot from other worlds?"  
  
Rain finally looked up. "These 'Imperials', what are they like?"  
  
Suddenly, a massive explosion shook the underground bunker, shaking it like a tin can. Alex noticed the wall of the room they were in sprout a jagged crack all along one side.  
  
Patch groaned. "Perfect timing, kid... I guess they just showed up." Handing Rain the Key (or what was left of it), he pounded out the room, followed closely by Alex and more reluctantly by Rain. 


	3. DISK I: b3tray4l

Dreams. Reality. What difference does it make?  
  
Another massive explosion resounded along the corridors of the O7 bunker as we ran, following Patch. He stopped once to slam a magazine on his gun. He also tossed us our stuff back, but for some reason, my Walkman wasn't there. Damn. That thing was expensive, too.  
  
I stretch, popping a few of my joints. I remember Alex's words: Showing off. This is to test your skills.  
  
Right, then. I just passed SFMA, and I'm a dreamer. I'd better make a friggin' difference; or else I had just wasted 5 years of my life. Let's see what these Imperial guys have got.  
  
An alarm started blaring, along with some nice red lighting effects. Patch swore.  
  
"Damn! They're in the third sector! They must have broken down the gates!"  
  
He passes me a gun, an automatic Ingram Mac-10.  
  
"Can you shoot?"  
  
I rack the slide easily with one hand, remembering the heavy firearms academy training.  
  
"Do you have to ask?" I answer, although the two small green orbs shining in the stock are completely alien to me.   
  
He finds Alex a long knife, which could easily double as a short sword for her, given her size. There are also three more green orbs set in the handle.   
  
Patch leads us out into the open, where hiding behind storage crates I see the occasional glimpse of a head.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk 1ne: thr3e: b3tr4y4l  
  
**

* * *

I have never been in an actual battle situation before, not one with hot lead flying everywhere and a gun in your hand. The Ingram feels like a lead paperweight as I jump for cover away from the volley of bullets.   
  
In front of me, taking shelter behind a large steel table, is the medic I saw earlier. She grins at me, reloads her gun, and fires over the top of the table blindly with one hand.   
  
"First battle?" She yells.  
  
"Hell yeah!" I answer.  
  
She grins at me, then tosses me a grenade. I fumble with the pin, pull it out, and throw it over my makeshift barrier in the general direction of the enemy fire.   
  
I turn to her again, but she is gone, body moving sinuously in the cover provided by my grenade. The enemy fire seems to have slowed a little, but the air is still thick with the occasional bullet and some sort of blue energy stuff that burns. It hits the wall behind me and bores a hole right through the reinforced concrete wall.   
  
Yeah. Just a battle, so don't worry. Don't worry about your brains being blown out the back of your head by a stray piece of hot metal.   
  
I run in a crouch and dive for the next stack of crates, but when I arrive, I see a dying trooper - one of the guys I roughed up before. He doesn't look like he'll be magically cured now, not with a hole the size of a welder's tank clean through his body. A horrible smell of scorched flesh comes from him.   
  
He coughs twice. "I'm gunna be okay...?"  
  
I nod silently, shocked. "...Yeah. You're going to be fine."  
  
Even he knows it's an obvious lie. He coughs once more, and bubbles of fresh blood appear around his mouth.   
  
He passes me something that looks like a slim metal bar, with a green orb placed at each end. The whole thing is about three feet long. The cold metal passes into my hand, streaked with blood.   
  
"I done good, didn't I kid? I done real good..." The man speaks. With a great effort, he fumbles in his armor, at last coming up with a picture of him and a family - showing his wife and two children. A generic family. "Tell Maria I done good."  
  
I nod again, and this time I realize there are tears running silently down my face.   
  
"...Take my plasma staff." He coughs again. "I won't need it where I'm going."   
  
He smiles, and takes his last breath.   
  
No. This can't be happening. This is a dream. A dream. Things like this don't happen in dreams. This is a nightmare.   
  
It's a war. People die for what they believe in. That is faith.  
  
I take the picture of the man and his family and pocket it. At least I can pay my respects to him.   
  
Then I look at the staff. There are small silver buttons just under the green orbs... Self-consciously, I touch one.   
  
A bright blade of the blue energy springs to life at the end of the staff. Poking the other button so that the plasma blades are ignited at both ends, I start to fight in a blind rage. It's a war. People live and die. The natural order of things.

* * *

Patch swore again as a hail of bullets struck the wall just above his head, ducking. The mobile machinegun turret they were facing spat a steady stream of bullets. He yelled to Alex above the din.  
  
"Where's Rain?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
The big man mutters to himself, slamming a fresh clip into his rifle. He notices Alex gently running her finger over the blade of the knife he gave her. So much like Kira... He forced himself to break off that thought and pay attention to the battle. He yelled to her again.   
  
"When that sucker stops to reload, we charge the thing! Okay?"  
  
Alex nods, getting her body into a crouching position.   
  
Then, the chatter of the machinegun stopped.   
  
Patch is up and running, firing as he goes, forcing the two Imperial Guard manning the gun to abandon their search for a fresh chain of ammo and hit the deck. Alex dashes to the gun as if she is still running the 100M back at the track, an all-out sprint. She arrives in seconds, as the first Imperial soldier clothed in crimson battle gear starts and pulls a sidearm from a belt.   
  
She swings at him and manages to cut his right arm, pivoting neatly to slash his throat. His blood erupts in a red mist over the second soldier's face, completely shocked as a few neat round holes emerge in his chest, courtesy of Patch's rifle.  
  
"Nice work." Patch comments. "Where did you learn to use a blade like that?"  
  
"I don't know," Alex replied dismissively, twirling the blade. "Cooking class?"  
  
"You know where your pal is?" Patch grunted, heaving the heavy chain of ammo up, feeding the end into the light artillery weapon.  
  
"Oh. Rain? He's probably off somewhere..."  
  
"That him?" Patch gestured with the stock of his rifle and raised an eyebrow.   
  
"..." Alex supplied.  
  
It was like a smooth, complex dance. Alex followed each movement of Rain's path of destruction through the front lines of the Imperial Guard.   
  
Using some sort of energy weapon he had no doubt picked up from someone deceased, he twirled and somersaulted, the bladed staff whirring around him in glowing blue arcs of destruction. As the two watched, the teenage dreamer split a soldier in two symmetrical halves, spinning round to decapitate another. One raised his rifle to fire, but it was too late, as the energy blades severed his hands at the wrists, no longer having any gun to fire with.   
  
But more troopers were approaching, firing as they ran. Rain deflected a plasma bolt by smacking it back to its source with the staff, but there were a few more loading and locking automatic rifles.   
  
Another O7 trooper collapsed, victim to the bullets that fell like rain. Patch heaved the machine gun to and brought its heavy muzzle to bear.   
  
It sprang to life with the chatter of fresh ammo and ejected death upon the approaching Imperials.   
  
Then a wall came down behind them. Alex noticed, but was too shocked to believe her eyes. "Holy! What is that thing?"  
  
A massive, metallic snaked head protuded from a large, heavy body and stumpy legs - a veritable monster. Wings sprouted from the back of the creature.   
  
Patch turned away from dealing death served in little lead pellets to the enemy and looked at the MEDUSA. "Exit cue, kids. Got to go."  
  
Alex pondered the wiseness of that statement as she gathered up her knife and began to follow, and the MEDUSA roared.   
  
"Wait! Rain! We've got to go!"  
  
But the teenager took no heed and continued to slice his way through another group of red-armored soldiers. The floor around him was already littered with blood and fragments of defeated soldiers, some of which were still steaming at the wounds where the plasma blade had passed cleanly through the flesh.   
  
Patch ran up to him and conked him on the head. "Goodnight Irene." Rain, exhausted and spattered in blood, did not resist as the larger man heaved him over one shoulder in a fireman's carry and ran.  
  
The MEDUSA, however, had not been idle. Missiles swarmed from various ports on its body, streaking into the floor and kicking up many fragments of concrete chips, dangerous enough to hurt. Patch jumped as the floor erupted in a cloud of dust behind him, showering him with debris.   
  
Alex dodged flying shards of rock and pounded ahead, many times faster than Patch was.   
  
"Where the hell do we get out?" She yelled, reaching the steel door and wrenching it open.  
  
"Hangar bay!" Patch replied, over the explosions. "We should be able to pick up a vehicle there!"  
  
"Great! How do we get there?" Alex screamed as the MEDUSA opened up with its shoulder gatling guns, a whirring chain of bullets peppering a path behind her as she frantically dodged.

* * *

Stars.  
  
I wonder. How do we really see stars? I mean, look. You get a big ball of gas, condense it, add a few nuclear explosions for good measure, and light 'er up.   
  
But all we see from good old Earth is a tiny prick of light.   
  
How unbearably sad.   
  
I'm dreaming again. I really don't think it helps my psyche much.   
  
Am I insane? I really don't know.   
  
Is life really a dream? You know, like that weird film or whatever. Where you think you're living the life, when the reality is, you're stuck as a battery for some machine somewhere. Ah, yes. The Matrix. Now I remember.   
  
I remember the face of the guy who died. I'll probably never know his name. He died fighting a war for a broken Earth, a war that may or may not have been worth his life. But he knew it was worth fighting for.   
  
Just how many other parallel universes are there? In another universe, I may have been popular. I may not have had these weird dreams all the time.   
  
But I don't know. All I can remember is how that, in a blind rage, I killed at least five people. I could always say that it 'was self-defense'. Quite true, actually. When people with big, heavy guns come after you, you most likely will run or try to fend them off.   
  
There's a saying somewhere... 'Someone's father, someone's son'. Just a reminder that every single one of the men I have seen killed had lives. They had thoughts and hopes and dreams. And they were finished fighting for a wreck of a planet.   
  
Can you awake from a dream inside a dream?   
  
I reach for the familiar blue stone of my pendant, but all there is now is a silver triangle inside a perfect circle.   
  
I cry. I'm so confused.

* * *

Alex pounded at warp factor five through the maze of corridors and rooms that was the underground O7 base, followed closely by Patch, who took the honor of shooting back behind them every few seconds to deter any leftover Imperial troops.   
  
Finding a sign hung on the wall with an arrow saying 'Hangar bay - do not run in the corridors' she smiled gently, tossing the sign away. She was feeling in a good mood, for someone who had a whole damn army chasing after her. Well, then again, she was an elite SFMA cadet. Looking back to see Patch hurriedly following, with Rain slung over one shoulder, she sighed - Rain had been completely out of hand back there. She wondered what he had seen to make him so mad.   
  
The door to the hangar bay burst open, courtesy of a strong kick by Alex. She rolled inside and was met with a war zone -smoke and shrapnel flying everywhere, bullets ricocheting off the walls. Her instinct told her to duck and dive, and just in time, an explosion rang out, knocking Patch behind her off his feet, impacting solidly with a wall. He groaned and sank to the floor.   
  
From Alex's point of view, the rebels seemed to be holding up well, but there were so many of the Imperials... how were they supposed to survive, with an entire army fighting them? She crawled over to Patch, seeking guidance, but the big man was knocked out, head lolling uselessly. Instead, she turned to Rain, slapping his face in order to wake him up.   
  
The young boy nudged the hand away from his face. Alex, exasperated, pulled her fist back and slugged him one. This jolted Rain out of his reverie.  
  
"Rain, I don't care what you're thinking, I don't care what you're doing, but we need you here, and you can't just zone out. There are people dying, and we might possibly be next. I don't want to die yet, so help me out here."  
  
"What does it matter? Why do you care? Alex, I killed back there! I KILLED!"  
  
"It was either them or us. This is a battle, Rain, not some stupid childish fantasy. Face it."  
  
Alex grabbed Rain with one hand and dragged him into cover.   
  
"So what do you think we should do? Just sit here and let them kill us?"  
  
The answer didn't come. Alex looked closer and saw that there were tears streaming down his face. He held the strange staff in his hand as if he was going to break it.   
  
"Rain, worry about guilt and sadness and shit like that later. I need your help, and I'm tired of your crap. So let's go."  
  
I wonder why she's so into this battle. Maybe she saw the same thing I did - people dying and falling in front of your eyes, for a cause they do not know. I remember a line from something or other....  
  
'..._Not for us to reason why, only just, to do and die_...'  
  
-The Charge of the Light Brigade  
  
The oath of the soldier. The valiant. But I am only a boy, although a highly trained SFMA cadet.   
I really begin to think the SFMA should be more social instead of encouraging individualism. I am all alone.  
  
And I must do what I can.

* * *

Rain ignited his staff at one end and hurled it like a javelin, the blade slicing cleanly through flesh and bone to arrive shining at the other end. Picking it up from the dead body, he grabbed the rifle from the prone form and tossed it to Alex, who caught it and returned fire at the skulking red forms at the other end of the hangar bay. The girl joined a band of Rebel troops behind a hastily erected barricade, pulling the trigger whenever she found a clean shot.   
  
One of the Rebels seemed to be directing the action, raven hair flowing behind his back as he threw another grenade and waited for the explosion. Another trooper nodded to him as they rushed out under cover of the grenade.   
  
"Renaku!!!" Another yelled. "We're nearly out of ammo!"  
  
"Make 'em count!" The lieutenant replied, throwing another charged plasma magazine in the trooper's direction. He gratefully reloaded and set to plugging away again.   
  
Patch crawled to his feet, rubbing his aching head. He still felt moderately weak after being knocked back by a grenade blast. Finding his rifle and injecting the plasma round into the breech, he charged to catch up with the kids.   
  
Rain slashed, whirled and parried, trying frantically to prevent himself from becoming a human sieve. Finding cover just as the Imperials reloaded, he winced as the crate behind him was peppered with bullets. Finding a gun on the floor beside him and a clean path to the enemy, he fired a volley. A red-coated soldier's coat flowered a dark crimson as the plasma rounds tore through his body. Alex slid across the floor to join him.  
  
"How are you holding up?"  
  
"Been better." Rain couldn't resist.  
  
"Glad to see you're up and running."  
  
Rain stared at her with wild eyes. "It's either them or us. This is a war."  
  
Alex looked at him once more before returning to battle.  
  
Renaku nodded. It was all going according to plan. Things just happened so nicely. Behind him, Patch barged in, relieving a few more Imperial shocktroopers of life.   
  
"Lieutenant Renaku! We're losing on all fronts. How did they get past the front gates?"  
  
"That is no concern of yours, Randall. Just prevent them from destroying the few remaining Chaos units we have."  
  
Patch looked suspiciously at the calm Renaku, wondering how the lieutenant could be so chilled under such a desperate situation. But then he noticed the way Renaku was smiling, and the high-security level keycard that the lieutenant was in possession of.  
  
"Permission to speak, SIR!" Patch barked.  
  
"Granted."  
  
"Why do you have the commander's keycard, SIR!"  
  
Renaku only smiled, tapping the stock of his pistol.  
  
"Dammit, Renaku, you let them in, didn't you?"  
  
"I think," The lieutenant mocked, "It's time for you to take a little nap."  
  
And with that, he slammed the hilt of his pistol into Patch's cranium, assuring the traitor that the trooper would not be waking up for a while. Patch sank into unconsciousness for a second time.   
  
"You know too much." Renaku muttered. "And for that, I'll have to kill you..."  
  
Right on cue, Rain scrambled in, calling for Patch.   
  
"Hey, Patch! Hey! Alex wants to see you! We gotta get out of-"  
  
He was cut short by Renaku about to pull the trigger.  
  
Without thinking, Rain stabbed with his plasma blade, aiming for the gun.  
  
Renaku's pistol, cleaved in half, fired.  
  
The gun exploded and left Renaku with a damaged hand.  
  
"What the hell were you doing?" Rain accused. Renaku chose not to reply, instead using a small flare of magic, he healed his broken hand.  
  
"Hey!" Rain lifted his staff, recognising the small bulge at the traitor's waist. "You took my Walkman!"  
  
"Fight me for it." Renaku mocked, drawing a long sword crafted of Orihalcyon, a magic-resistant metal.  
  
Rain charged. "Give it back!"  
  
I charged in a blind rage.   
  
Many people ask why I am so possessive of my Walkman.   
  
I really don't know. It was something I got when I was ten, due to a mail-order mix-up. That has been the only spark in my life for a long time. It was the only constant in my life. That and my pendant, anyway. But the pendant isn't what it seems to be anymore...  
  
He responded, predictably, by a sweeping slash that would cut my legs off as I charged. But I had seen this move far too many times in practice. I jumped over the attack, slicing down as I did so, but hit empty air as the other, moving too fast for me to see, swung in a killing stroke to my neck. I parried easily and dodged the next blow, launching my own offensive by swinging my staff round both ways, but the plasma blades sparked off his sword in small flares of plasma energy.  
  
He counterattacked quickly, though, in a blinding sweep of strikes I only just managed to parry, although the last one got through, scoring a light gash on my left arm. I desperately swung, as blade met staff and clung. We struggled, neither gaining an advantage, until he released the hold he had on his sword. Surprised, I fell back, and was greeted with a vicious kick to the face. With his other foot, he flicked the sword neatly back into the air, and caught it expertly.   
  
"Not bad" I spat something that felt horribly like bloody teeth out of my mouth. "My turn."  
  
I kept my staff perpendicular to the ground, feinting slightly with the lower blade, and as I predicted, he moved to dodge. Acting quickly, I switched focus and the other plasma blade crackled to life, in a stroke designed to decapitate. He blocked it, though. I was expecting this, and pushed my staff forward. As planned, he grabbed my staff, planning to snatch it from my grasp.   
  
Perfect.   
  
I let go, overbalancing him, and then I snapped my body up in a flash roundhouse. My academy issue trek boot impacted solidly with the base end of the staff and slammed it into the strange man who had tried to shoot Patch. He was dazed for a single second, and that was all I needed. His next block was weak, and I forced my way past it easily to slice his chest open. Grunting, he kicked me away.  
  
We circled each other warily, as the sounds of battle resounded behind us. Alex was having a hell of a time. We had both been injured, and for that, we respected each other's strength. He attacked again, feinting and rushing in a two-handed power slash, and I dodged desperately. Fighting in such an unpredictable pattern had put me off my guard.   
  
Slash, parry, parry, slash, parr- no wait, feint, slash, block...  
  
My body responded smoothly to the challenge, faster than I ever thought I could be. The staff flowed easily in my hands, as if it had been meant to be there all along.  
  
I pivoted, allowing his sword stroke to miss me, then I thrust and hit home, the blade finding purchase...  
  
Hey... I had been sure that I hit...  
  
He laughed coldly, a high, cold laugh that chilled me to the bone.   
  
"Just a boy... yet you fight so well..."  
  
Oh great. The general trash-talk banter.  
  
"Many people have said that to me, right before I bashed their faces in." Might as well oblige the asshole.  
  
"Ever heard of the power of illusion?"  
  
Oh, HELL no.  
  
To demonstrate his point, he blurred into two images, his sword seeming to attack from two areas at once. I had no way of telling which was real and which was fake.   
  
I parried wildly, as BOTH the images sank into me; both tearing flesh and ripping it like so much paper. It hurt. A lot.  
  
"You fight well, boy. But not well enough. KUNAI!"  
  
His sword glowed blood-red, as I brought the staff up in a parry.  
  
"You are WEAK!" He yelled, as his strangely glowing blade easily knocked my weakened hold on the plasma staff away, and struck me through-  
  
I heard him talk, as my vision clouded over.  
  
"You have given me a good battle, and for that I will let you live. But don't count on being so lucky next time, boy."  
  
Patch awoke to find Rain lying in a small pool of blood and an innocent, unobtrusive device ticking away in front of him.   
  
"...Oh, fuck."  
  
Alex stumbled in, her hair matted and her face streaked with blood.  
  
"They've retreated for the moment. I think we're..." She trailed off as her eyes fell on the prone form of Rain facedown in a pool of red.   
  
Snarling, Patch gestured to the thing on the floor, which beeped innocently.  
  
"This is why they've gone." The big man cursed silently. "An ion bomb."  
  
"...Powerful?"  
  
Patch didn't answer. "We've got to get out of here." Picking up the bloodied form of Rain and hanging him over his shoulder, he ran.  
  
Somewhere, Renaku nursed his wounded hand gently, pondering the fate of the Rebel base and the boy he had found there. A voice behind him spoke.  
  
"Is it done?"  
  
"Yes, my lord. The Rebels have been eradicated. Their base will be wiped off the face of the earth." Renaku replied.  
  
"Well done. I will leave you now - I must turn my mind to more pressing matters such as that of the Reality Engine branch."  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
After the echoes of the footsteps died away, Renaku's hand strayed to the play button of the boy's 'Walkman', as he had called it. Strains of heavy metal rung his ears as he listened and smiled. 


	4. DISK I: 1t d03sn't r34lly m4tt3r

_

* * *

The path to eternity lies on the heels of hope.  
_  
We must have hope.  
  
Hope is a very indefinite thing, but it can make the difference between a victory and a loss, a failure and a success. It is one of the most powerful psychological forces known to mankind.   
  
Should we have hope? Most definitely. Hope gives us something to... well, hope for. It allows our minds to set high sights on something we may never reach, but as long as we strive to reach that goal, even if we die trying, we will know we have tried.   
  
But some people spurn hope, saying it leads to a increasing lack of overconfidence. This overconfidence leads to cockiness, which in turn leads to the overwhelming belief that you are superior to everyone else around you. A misguided theory, as your superior self may actually end up on a very fast ride to hell driven by your less superior enemies.   
  
So hope is a delicate balance.   
  
Does the ending of the journey fuelled by hope matter?   
  
Of course, some people say. But if we fail, we would probably be the better for it anyway. From this comes the belief that the ending of life doesn't really matter, for it is the journey that matters.   
  
Isn't it?

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk one: 4our: it doesn't really matter  
  
**

* * *

A battered Jeep with the hastily painted logo of the 7 in the silver circle on its front swerved crazily as heavy explosive rockets streaked into the dirt road ahead. The MEDUSA roared, unwilling to let it's target escape that easily. Gatling cannons popped out from shoulder compartments and peppered the vehicle, the heavy ammo denting but not piercing the armored hide.   
  
Inside, Alex was tossed around like a pinball in a machine. Patch struggled to bring the 4WD under control as the MEDUSA Imperial Mech targeted it. Rain lay, unmoving, in a small, bleeding heap on the back seat.   
  
"He's going to die! He's lost too much blood!" Alex yelled to Patch over the whine of the powerful combustion engine.   
  
"Use a healing spell!" Patch grunted, terse and distracted as a pulse cannon shockwave shook the car like a rag doll. Twisting the wheel wildly, he managed to drag the Jeep back to the road.   
  
"WHAT?" Alex yammered, right before she was flung into the car window as Patch made a sharp turn.  
  
"DO IT!!!" Patch yelled in frustration as the MEDUSA began to follow them, jet engines whining as it followed the vehicle. "Hold your knife and say the words!"  
  
"What words?" Alex drew her knife, trying desperately not to cut herself with the blade as the vehicle bounced about.   
  
"Soul of the living world, aid your fallen child! Cure! Do it!" Patch gritted his teeth as the Jeep rammed full speed into an Imperial barricade, running over fence and man alike.   
  
Nervously, Alex gripped her knife, gently touching one of the green orbs in her knife as if to will them into working. Talking silently to it, she muttered. "I'm sceptical, but right now you're the only chance Rain's got. Do what you will."  
  
"Soul of the living world, aid your fallen child! _Cure_!"  
  
Motes of green light sprang to life around Rain, and his flesh began to knit back together, cuts closing and sucking their own blood back inside, until not even scars were left, leaving an unconscious, but breathing and very much alive cadet.   
  
Alex collapsed from exhaustion and nerves. She had not been sure whether it would work or not...  
  
"Good job." Patch grimaced as the Jeep hit an uneven stretch of road. "You should be tired after casting your first spell. You can relax now, I think we lost them, but we need to get out of the range of the ion bomb." Shifting gears quickly, he cranked the already complaining motor up a notch.   
  
With a screech of tyres, the car pulled onto the road, wheels now running smoothly over tarmac marred by warfare- craters and bullet holes.   
  
"We've got to get out of range. That ion bomb kills everything in a mile radius." Patch spoke, keeping one hand calmly on the wheel.   
  
"Who planted it?"  
  
"We had a traitor in the O7 ranks."  
  
"A traitor?"  
  
"Yes, and a very skilled one as well. I think your pal there met him personally and knows his skills firsthand. His name is Renaku. He was a commander in our forces as well. Now he has doomed every one of the O7 force by using our own ion technology against us."   
  
Then the sky flashed white.

* * *

_Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory?_  
  
That face...  
  
Wild hair whipping about, black, long... childlike features, cold...  
  
"KUNAI!!!"  
  
I desperately flung my staff up to parry, but my weakened block was nothing...  
  
Pain. Cold, alone. I was all alone in the rain.   
  
A woman. Late home, having too much to do, arms full with plastic bags holding food and other items, comes across a baby lying in the rain.   
  
A kind, caring face. Too much forgotten, too much not remembered.  
  
_Why?_  
  
That night, a long time ago, an extra child joined the ranks of Madame Tessaline's orphanage.   
  
They named me Rain, for it was where I was found. Falling from the sky.  
  
I awoke to blinding light.

* * *

Ion technology works by displacing ions in a mass of explosive, therefore creating a highly unstable material that is nearly thirty times more reactive than the original.   
  
This meant nothing to Patch's logical, effective mind except that they were not out of the extensive blast radius.   
  
The brilliant flash lit up the night sky for seconds. Then, the shockwave appeared.   
  
A rippling wave of pure force shook the foundations of the ancient city of New York. Roads buckled and gave way under the constricting pressure of the waves. The already weakened frame of the city crumbled into dust, and metal structures toppled and fell, breaking like so much glass as they were bent and warped in directions it was never meant to go.   
  
If the Jeep had been unsteady before, now it felt like it was in the epicentre of an earthquake. The car bounced into the air once, twice, three whole times before the wave overtook it and flipped it over, smacking it into the concrete firmly with an audible crunch.   
  
Then, the explosion. Compared to the shockwave, Alex felt relatively safer in the car when the blast hit O7 HQ, even though she was hanging upside down, only held in her seat by the safety catch.   
  
Patch could not contain himself, and slammed one heavy fist into the dashboard of the car, cracking the LCD display slightly.   
  
"DAMMIT!!!" Flipping himself over, he kicked the door of the Jeep with so much force that it blew outward. "IMPERIAL _ASSHOLES_!!! COME AND GET ME!!" Grabbing his rifle, he fired wildly into the air, his fury at losing his family, Kira, and the rest of his friends in O7 to the Imperial war machine finally causing his normally rock-hard psyche to crack.   
  
Rain began to fall, as the skies wept for the courageous little band of rebels that was Zero-7. They had died, and the world was worse for their passing.   
  
Emptying an entire magazine into the night sky, Patch broke down and wept.   
  
The teenage boy in the back seat shook his head to clear the vestiges of his dream from his head. Sitting up, he groaned as his headache returned, full strength and with a vengeance.   
  
"Why are we upside down?" Rain muttered.   
  
"The shockwave from the blast flipped us over." Alex supplied.   
  
"Oh." Then, a split second later, Rain realised the implications of that. "What blast?" He asked, already dreading the answer.   
  
"The O7 base." Alex sounded unhappier than he had ever heard. "Apparently there was a traitor in their ranks."  
  
"That guy..." Rain remembered the grinning face of the man he had fought. "He planted a bomb?"  
  
"Yep." Alex said, right before unstrapping herself from her seat and landing unceremoniously on her back. "Ow. He kicked your ass pretty well, too."  
  
"I've been meaning to ask that... why didn't I die?"   
  
"Wouldn't I like to know." Alex winced, rubbing out the kinks in her muscles. "Apparently I cast a healing spell."  
  
Rain shook his head. "You've gotta be kidding."  
  
"Nope. It was like back at the base with the medic."  
  
"It's OVER!!!" Patch screamed, as the droplets of water streamed down his face, mingling with his tears and sweat, to run off around his ankles. In a smaller voice, he continued. "I've lost everything..."  
  
"No."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Is this the real you?" Alex interjected.   
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Are you just going to sit here on your ass and howl shit to the heavens until you sink into a pit of depression? Huh? What about the people who died for the cause of liberating this planet? They believed in the cause. That is faith." The SFMA cadet continued. "I, for one, do not think this is over."  
  
"What can I do? Why don't you tell me, kiddo?"  
  
"Go do what you set out to do. Take down these Imperial guys. You believe that they are evil and are worth fighting against. Are you willing to give vengeance?"  
  
Then the MEDUSA caught up, effectively stopping any further discussion.

* * *

Whether Alex knows it or not, she is a good leader. Well, she managed to knock me out of my horror at killing...  
  
Killing... it is a war after all. Either them or us. That is the life of a soldier.   
  
Well, as I watched them bicker and Alex try to convince the big man that blah, blah, blah it's time to do what you set out to do... I sensed something coming.   
  
It was big. It was fast.   
  
My hand instinctively found the plasma staff, still grisly with blood dried over the grip. I ignited it at one end and looked out what was left of the car back window.   
  
I guess the other two noticed as well, since it was firing as it flew.   
  
I ducked down (up, rather) to shield myself from the bullets. The Jeep was armored, and although it was now virtually useless as a vehicle, it could be used as a cover in a pinch.   
  
At least, that's what I thought, until I saw the rocket launcher pop out from the right arm of the thing. (Patch had called it a MEDUSA.)  
  
I kicked the door open and ran towards the other two, rolling and diving, just as the Jeep went straight up, the fuel catching alight. I felt the heat wash over me in a wave as I hit the deck.   
  
The massive robotic dragon drew closer. It had a short, stumpy body with some sort of door at the chest cavity that no doubt held a weapon of some kind, or maybe even the operator. The head was small in comparison, but it boasted wicked hooked fangs and what looked like several tiny weapons attached to the head. Its metallic wings folded into its back, and I saw two gatling miniguns attached to the shoulders.   
  
The monstrosity roared, a sound of metal screeching on metal.   
  
Patch jolted out of his reverie, and I saw him look at the MEDUSA with hatred and anger so deep I thought it would burn a hole right through the mechanical creature. But the thing was quick at targeting, and a rocket streaked towards the two. Alex dove to one side, Patch another as he rolled with the blow and came up firing.   
  
Some of the bullets hit, forming small indents in the steel. The monster roared. The wings folded forward, shielding it from further damage. Bullets sparked off the metal wings. Apparently they were made out of tougher stuff.   
  
I charged, staff ignited at one end. I had a strange thought as I rushed - it felt like one of the medieval fairy tales, where the knight goes off to fight the dragon with a lance. Except in this case, the dragon was made of metal, and had many weapons that could probably kill me in less than a heartbeat.   
  
And I had something that was possibly a bit more damaging than a lance.   
  
Putting all my weight behind it, I slammed the plasma blade into the metallic hide. With more than a little effort, the blade slid into the creature. It roared and shook wildly trying to dislodge the stupid human who had challenged it. I clung desperately to it, but I ended up flying, staff and all. I landed unceremoniously on my butt, rolled twice, and hit a wall.  
  
The thing drew back a step. Clearly I had hurt it somewhat. Another barrage of bullets hit it, this time, on its unprotected head. Patch slammed a fresh magazine home as the empty one dropped to the concrete.   
  
"Come on, you ASSHOLE!!!" Patch yelled, in reply to the creature's keening call. Plucking a grenade from his belt, he flung it at the MEDUSA. It exploded in a mess of metal shrapnel. The snakelike head screeched in pain as part of the head armor was blown away.   
  
Alex jumped forward, aiming for the area exposed by the grenade. Her hand snapped outward in a blinding movement, and the knife Patch had scrounged for her back at the O7 base suddenly sprouted in the neck of the mechanical monster. I saw a surge of electricity flash near the unprotected area, and after looking closer, I saw a few severed wires.   
  
But the eyes still blinked a malevolent red.

* * *

Alex swore heartily. Her thrown knife had failed to down it permanently, and now she had no weapon. Then she swore again, harder, as the two gatling guns on the MEDUSA's shoulders swung forward and began to rotate.   
  
"MOVE! ALL OF YOU!" She screamed as bullets chewed up the point where she had been standing a second before. The miniguns chattered madly, ancient lead ammo destroying the pavement.   
  
Patch grunted as the bullets impacted in front of him and shrapnel went flying. Shielding himself with his arms, he crouched down, trying to present as small a target as possible. He checked himself for spare magazines as his rifle clicked empty, and swore. His gun was dry, and the magazines were in what was left of the Jeep...  
  
Rain shook his head to clear it... that thing had knocked him for a loop. Gripping his staff again, he activated the plasma blades at both ends. Then he noticed Alex's knife embedded in the MEDUSA's neck.   
  
Trying to get close, he ran, only to jump back as he was very nearly caught in crossfire by the twin gatling guns, which continued to fire. He desperately needed an opening... but how?  
  
Alex, perched on the still smoking hulk of the damaged Jeep, interrupted him.   
  
"Hey, you big piece of robot crap! Yeah, you, you hunk of junk! You listening? Come and get me!" The blonde grinned crazily, face streaked with dirt. "What, or are you just a big metal chicken with a snake for a head? Huh?"  
  
The eyes of the MEDUSA pulsed a bright crimson.   
  
The closed chest cavity opened, revealing six missile ports that swung out, ready to fire.   
  
Patch grimaced as blood trickled from his cut and bleeding arms. Shielding himself with them had been a bad idea...  
  
Then he saw the chest of the metal lizard open, and the rockets ready to fire. Grinning, he drew his service revolver - a Desert Eagle. The laser sight painted a red patch on his target.  
  
"Night night." He fired once. He was cool, calm, collected. His senses felt hyperextended and away from his body. He could see the MEDUSA clearly. He could even read the writing on the single spent brass that ejected from the side of the gun - SUPER X. 357 MAGNUM, as it spiralled up, over, and down to the floor, clinking gently.  
  
The single armor-piercing shell hit its target - one of the missiles. Predictably, it blew up, causing a chain reaction as the other rockets exploded as well, with an SFX-budget boom.  
  
The MEDUSA screeched once as its own weapons exploded inside it. High-density armor cracked and peeled from the strain of containing something like this. The mecha weapon created by the Imperial Empire was built to shrug off minor cracks and dents and even minor heavy-weapons fire. But six multipurpose attack rockets going off in its core damaged it beyond any hope of repair.   
  
Stricken, the monster tried to fly, smoke billowing from the damaged core. But it was too late - this was just the distraction that Rain had been waiting for.   
  
Jumping up from the remains of an old building frame, he whirled the glowing staff blades about, the blue energy flashing twice. Dropping to ground level again, he counted three seconds before the decapitated snakelike head of the metal dragon crashed to the floor beside him.   
  
Another two and the body followed, crashing to the earth.   
  
Rain sighed. Some thing he signed up on when he graduated...  
  
From the dust, Patch picked himself up and reholstered his Desert Eagle. Striding over to the battered hulk of the MEDUSA, he pulled out a small soldier's tool kit from his belt and began to dismantle part of it using a laser cutting torch. Alex strode over to the neck of the thing and pulled her knife out of the creature in a shower of sparks and loose electricity.   
  
"What are you doing?" Rain asked, seeing Patch continue to tinker with the machine.   
  
After a few seconds, the hulking soldier managed to loosen the screws, grabbing one of the massive gatling guns from the MEDUSA and strapping it to his back, along with a long chain of ammo. His muscles strained from the exertion, but he made no comment.   
  
"Oh." Rain cursed himself for being such an idiot. Of course... bigger is better, isn't it?   
  
Patch didn't say anything, just handed Alex his dropped assault rifle and a mag he had retrieved from the Jeep. "You know how to use that thing?"  
  
With a businesslike expression, Alex pulled off the safety, checked the slide, let it lock on the empty magazine installed, loosened the chamber, released the empty mag, snagged the fresh one, slammed it home, pulled back the slide, and let it lock on the first bullet before placing the empty mag back into her pocket. Thumbing the safety, she slung it by the safety strap over one shoulder. "Yes."  
  
"Where do we go now?" Rain mumbled. He felt on the verge of collapsing again.  
  
"This isn't your world. Take the Key and go home. It will be safer there." Patch said. "We go to the Reality Engine."  
  
"What?" Alex's tone was outraged. "You drag us through time and space to get here, now you tell us to go back?" She looked to Rain for support.   
  
"He's right. If these Imperial guys want the Key, they'll just have to cast another one of your spells, not take it from my dead body." Rain affirmed, while casually leaning on one side of the still smoking hulk of the MEDUSA. "Right now, I know what I want. I want to go home, chivalry and experience be damned."  
  
"I can't BELIEVE you two!" Alex yelled. "We just fought a freaking metal dragon through teamwork, and now you want us to split up?"  
  
"You will be safer back in your home universe." Patch grunted. "The enemy will not take kindly to a pair of kids holding the legendary Key from them."  
  
"It's not a Key." Rain interrupted automatically, before Alex exploded with a fresh wave of anger.   
  
. "Free will? I want to see this through to the end, now I'm stuck into it. Going on a suicide mission to avenge the O7 will not work! We can help you, and we're not a 'pair of kids', we're students at one of the toughest, if not THE toughest, military academies on Earth! Look, you wanted help? Here's help." She gestured vigorously at herself.  
  
"Let me say she speaks for herself when she says that, not me." Rain sighed. "I just want to go home and forget about all of this. I want to wake up."  
  
Alex was literally frothing at the mouth. "Wake up? WAKE UP? You still think this is a goddamned dream?" She swung a punch at Rain, who made no attempt to block or dodge as it smacked painfully into his jaw.   
  
Patch knew a serious argument when he saw one. Instead of letting Alex beat an unresisting Rain to within an inch of death, he decided to prolong the issue.   
  
"Guys!"  
  
"I can't believe you're just letting this go-"  
  
"Look, I want to go home-"  
  
"CHILDREN!" Patch yelled, a small vein sticking out of his neck.  
  
They shut up.  
  
"We have to get to the Engine. Hopefully this issue will be resolved before then, since, even if you want to help me, we must go to the Reality Engine anyway. I have to save someone." He waited, trying to gauge their reactions. When no response was forthcoming, however, he continued.   
  
"Until then, we work as a group. If you want to go, you can go. It you want to come with me, do so. I can allow that much."  
  
Rain blew upwards, as a strand of hair had fallen between his eyes. "I'm with you until we get to the Engine."  
  
"All the way." Alex stood, idly scratching something into the smoking hulk of the MEDUSA with her knife. "I'm with you until the Imperial Empire is dust."  
  
"I appreciate your help." Patch nodded, shifting the gatling gun to a new position on his back. "But please try to work together from now on. Now shake hands."  
  
"...What?" Rain responded.  
  
"You heard me! Shake hands, seal the deal, whatever."  
  
Feeling oddly childish, the teenagers shook hands, clenching each other's fingers tightly - a death grip.  
  
"Good." Patch looked from one to the other. It looked like they were each trying to break the other's fingers. Sighing, he set off, waiting for them to follow at a slower pace.   
  
The SFMA cadets followed.

* * *

I really don't know about Alex. She is so emotional.   
  
That's probably why she isn't a graduate yet, even though we are virtually the same age. Soldiers do not feel emotion. They kill for a living, anyway. I think emotion is nearly as looked-down upon as dreaming. Go figure.  
  
But she punches hard. That one really hurt, although I passed it off as only mildly aching.   
  
It surprises me about how much you can learn about people in so little time. How would I have known that the academy prom queen felt stress and insecurity just like the rest of us lowly human beings? Life's strange... I probably would never have met Alex personally if she had not followed me that night and gotten caught in the spell... call it fate? I don't believe in fate.   
  
But I don't believe we create our own destiny, either.   
  
So... what do I believe? I only know a few things: that I don't belong, that I am an orphan, who can kick 95 times a minute and punch at 96mph... I really don't know.  
  
But Alex... intrigues me, in her own special way. I don't know many people, and I have never met anyone so free-spirited as this girl. She is so... strange to me... as well as her emotions and her passionate beliefs. I really wish I could believe in my values that passionately as well, but what do I believe?   
  
She is so complex, in a way. Her values are so intricate, yet so straightforward... I cannot understand. Maybe I will come to know in time...  
  
But I am going home soon, after all, and she is going to be caught up again in the war-torn planet that is where we are now. I really wish I could stay with her and learn more about faith. I remember her words clearly: They believe in their cause, and are even willing to die for what they believe in. That is faith.  
  
_What is my cause? Where is my faith?_

* * *

_A world apart from the rocky desert road where the group defeated the MEDUSA..._  
  
"Renaku." The president of the Imperial Empire sank into his chair, casually adding sugar and milk (luxuries in these days) to his scalding hot tea.  
  
"You asked to see me, Your Excellency?"  
  
"Ah, yes. Please, sit. Have some tea - its one of the few plants that survived the Five Minute War."  
  
The Imperial spy and traitor to the O7 gratefully sank into a plush leather chair facing the president, taking the cup of preoffered tea. Casually flicking his hair back into place behind his back, where it rested in a tied ponytail, he waited for the order from his superior.  
  
"The Rebels have been completely wiped off the face of this planet. Is this true?"  
  
"Yes, Your Excellence." Renaku nodded slightly, with no small hint of pride.  
  
"So, is it true that we should expect no more resistance from any faction or area?" The president flicked his gaze towards the raven-haired man's face, gauging his answer.   
  
Renaku resisted the urge to cringe under the force of that glare. The president was incredibly cold and calculating, and had won many battles through sheer cleverness and strategy.   
  
"Yes, your Excellence." Renaku repeated, but with none of the previous bravado.   
  
"Then explain why an Imperial Class-IV MEDUSA robot mech's radar signal was lost scarcely hours ago on perimeter patrol duty around the ionized area."  
  
"..." Renaku opened and closed his mouth, trying to find an explanation and getting only one, which was not a good one at all. "S-some of the Rebels must have managed to escape the ion blast radius. That's the only explanation possible."   
  
"Why are they alive when you assured me that they would be wiped off the face of this planet?"  
  
"...I don't know, Your Excellency."  
  
"Find them and kill them. They can't have gotten far. We cannot have a small group of survivors creating another, possibly larger rebel organisation."  
  
"I'll get someone on it, Your Excellency."   
  
"And add an extra squadron of guards to the Reality Engine area. We cannot risk them destroying the Engine, either. There was a hit before - the damned thing misfired and sent one of the rebels someplace. Dr. Shaw is annoyed, as she says the Rebels took something called a Key they need to properly control the Engine."  
  
"Yes, Your Excellency." Renaku reciprocated, getting slightly bored with all the orders.  
  
"Do not fail me again." The president's glare hit him. "Your life depends on it." Leaving his tea unfinished, he left the room.  
  
Renaku looked at his tea.   
  
Focusing a tiny amount of magical energy on the cup, he swore.  
  
The formerly scalding tea froze solid.

* * *

I concentrated, breathing deeply. The flow of air inside our bodies is controlled by our state of mind. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax. Find your ki, as the combat instructor taught us.  
  
Standing perfectly still, I hold a stance, balancing easily on one black hightop sneaker.   
  
Breathe in, breathe out. Rhythmic. Easy.   
  
No distractions. No thoughts, no emotion. No feelings.   
  
Now.  
  
I swing my staff forward, plasma blade up and flaring, eyes closed, knowing without thinking that I will hit my target.   
  
I open my eyes, relaxing. Turning around, I switch off the plasma blade. This staff is a great weapon.  
  
Behind me, the tree splits in half diagonally.   
  
Sometimes I wish life were like a battle. There are no hesitations, no second thoughts, as they would surely mean death. You know when to parry, when to dodge, when to attack... Everything is preordained. A battle can be won before it starts.   
  
But life is different. Feeling all the worries and thoughts I had return with the end of my practice session, I sigh as I make it back to camp and the sky grows dark.

* * *

Some long hours of journeying later, the group had come across a wide expanse of forest. It was much more appealing than the dried, hardened rock and sand of the desert, so there they went._A good soldier should always have:   
  
1) A weapon.  
  
2) Training.  
  
3) Experience.  
  
4) Food._  
  
Patch mentally ran over the list in his head again. He only had three of the items on the list.   
  
He was hungry.   
  
Point being, he had not eaten since the disastrous mission to destroy the Reality Engine in which Kira had been lost. It had been a long time, and now he was hungry. Cursing under his breath, he slung the minigun to one side of him and turned over, trying to ignore the aching in his gut. Maybe after a good night's sleep he could forget it...  
  
"You got anything to eat?" Alex asked, poking him in the back with a finger.  
  
This question was answered a few minutes later by a small local earthquake, the source of which being the O7 trooper's stomach.   
  
Alex laughed. "I'll take that as a 'no'."  
  
"Actually, I do have something. Military rations. Want some?"  
  
The SFMA cadet pounced on the small, foil-wrapped package. Opening it and stuffing the contents into her mouth, she was surprised to find that the contents tasted much like bland, dry cardboard.  
  
After a few minutes of extensive coughing and choking, Alex spat the 'military rations' back out onto the forest floor.  
  
It was Patch's turn to laugh. "All the vitamins and minerals you could possibly need for 24 hours, crammed into a single small package. Can I add that it's also completely inedible?"  
  
"You're not joking." Alex muttered after chugging deeply from a bottle of water that she had left in her pack after academy sports day. For a bottle of water that had been broken into individual atoms and re-formed again on a journey through time and space, it still tasted like a bottle of water.   
  
"It's more useful as an explosive than it is as a food source." Patch flicked a stray crumb of the nutrient biscuit towards their small fire, where it erupted in a small frenzy of sparks. "Saw a barrel of this crap fall into a beachhead bunker once. Blast put two ships in dry dock for six months. Great stuff."  
  
"Really?" Alex spat out the mouthful of H2O, forcing the acrid taste out of her mouth. "For a high explosive, it doesn't taste half bad."   
  
The man chuckled, gazing at the dark skin of his arm. This girl was so much more than a weak young female... Alex, intruding once more, interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"I want to know something." She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and played idly with her knife. "Who exactly are these Imperials? I mean, we know that they're trying to kill us, and trying to steal technology from other realities... but not much else. What are their goals? Origin? And why the hell are you guys fighting them?"  
  
Time to get to the truth. Patch cracked the knuckles of his right hand. "Listen up, kiddo. History lesson 101."

* * *

_"It began with technological advances in their own world. Simple, as always. Man, creating something he thought he could control, becoming prideful and content in his own power. Power beyond understanding, power to shape worlds and destroy them in an instant. Power to create and destroy life itself. The race of man now known as the Ancients.   
  
With a world like that, there were bound to be problems. Instead of dealing with the problems that they already had, they decided instead to build on those problems. The lower sections of the Ancient cities were slums, as the more affluent sections of the capitals were supported upwards. Technology grew so new and powerful that it could not be controlled. Biomechanical limbs replaced artificial limbs. Cloned limbs replaced biomechanical limbs that in turn were replaced by brain transplant surgery - transferring someone's mind into a new, desirable body.   
  
Terrorist groups quickly took control of this technology, however, as many political leaders' minds were replaced by insecure maniacs that governed the country to a religious end or a cult belief. Take for instance the Blood Wake - an insignificant street cult with a heavy emphasis on crime and murder showing the strong over the weak. Add brain transplant and the brain of the leader of Russia ended up dead, with the head of the cult in his place posing as him.   
  
Then we have the beginnings of a new USSR and the Second Cold War, which eventually developed into the famous Five-Minute War. Nuclear missiles were taken over by people who fired them off randomly at will. Sections of the earth became so irradiated that the very genetic structure of the humans was changed, and they roamed the earth as monsters. Most animals died in their millions, bodies not built to take the massive level of gamma rays.   
  
Viruses mutated as well, finally forming an extreme variant of the Ebola virus called the 'blood sick'. Humanity suffered, feeling their own comeuppance caused by their own pride that they were safe, that they were supreme on their planet.   
  
The few great minds on earth that still survived struggled to change their past by creating a Reality Engine - something that could warp both space and time to change the universe. It was completed, but none of the scientists lived to see its success. They were killed when one of them betrayed the rest by releasing a biological weapon inside the lab as he himself escaped inside the Engine, presumably to another time and universe.   
  
What was left of the human race banded together under a brilliant military leader known as Charles Kingslow. Forming a group known as the Earthbreaker Army, he established firm control over the world, purging the world of religious beliefs and cult terrorists, as they had started this whole business. Once finished, he ordered all Ancient technology to be smashed and destroyed, believing human pride and knowledge to be the cause of all this.   
  
Starting from scratch, he built an empire from a tattered and broken Earth, based on hope, sweat, and tears. By dint of blood and bone, the human race rebuilt itself. But Kingslow had many enemies, and a few short years after he established a new democracy, one of his opponents assassinated him.   
  
This opponent was Rezo Takada - one of the Japanese scientists left over from Neo-tokyo, the new Japanese capital city. Managing to pass off Kingslow's assassination as a suicide, he took control of the man's empire that he had worked so hard to build, and named himself president in Charles' place. Renaming the last empire of humans as the Imperial Empire, he took over as a dictator, immediately restarting projects to uncover the power and technology of the Ancients. Specifically the Reality Engine, as Rezo coveted the power that it could give him if he could bring the Imperial war machine to bear on another universe, uncorrupted by man's spoiling existence.   
  
But a powerful and righteous man such as Charles Kingslow did not die without having a few close friends wonder why he committed suicide.   
  
Captain Army Major Frost was one of those, and with a little of the pre-earthbreaker leftover reconnaissance military equipment at his disposal, he quickly discovered the truth - that Rezo had taken over by killing Charles. But before he could do anything, Rezo exiled him from the city of the Imperials, knowing that Frost knew the truth.   
  
Frost, being the military genius that he was, grouped together a small band of expert soldiers who were loyal to him and to Charles, and nicknamed them the O7, in comparison to the Imperial Army's six types of military division."  
_  
**-'The Rise and Fall of Mankind' - 2030**

* * *

"...And that's the history of this world in brief..." Patch smiled grimly, idly cleaning the long cylinders of his chaingun.   
  
"...Wow..." Alex breathed, her mouth a small, round 'O'. "You know..."   
  
"Hm?" Patch looked up from his gun to appraise her, looking for a response.  
  
"You know..." She repeated. "That... really sucks."  
  
Patch raised a hand to his face in exasperation and resumed polishing his gun, frowning slightly at the disrespect Alex had for history... well, then again, she was only a girl. "I was hoping for more of a '...good story...' actually."   
  
"So? It just royally SUCKS! Your world has been screwed over at every turn! Nuked! Wasted! Betrayed! It is just so DIFFERENT!!!" Alex sat up from where she had been lying down, exasperated.  
  
"What makes you think your world may not end up the same way?" Patch's dark eyes stared into hers.   
  
She had no response to that.

* * *

As I stumbled wearily back to camp, I approached a clearing that I had not seen before.   
  
It was atop an elevated cliff where the treeline met a river. I took a deep breath to calm myself, steadying frayed nerves with a large amount of air. Looking over the cliff, I could see a small human settlement below, parked next to the river that gave the forest life in the desert.   
  
They were scavengers, from what I could see. Swarthy and heavily muscled, they clustered around a heap of something that I recognized as the remains of the MEDUSA. They must have dragged the mechanical carcass from where we had downed the thing.   
  
Loud voices and the smell of cooking food drifted up from their position. The men laughed and the women chattered, so peaceful despite the fact that they lived in houses patched together from rusty hulks of machinery.   
  
Man. Such an adaptable race. It was what had made us conquerors of this planet, rising above other, maybe more powerful species. We changed. Changing meant surviving.   
  
Dragging my mind away from that easily debatable subject, I noticed that many of the houses had a red diamond painted on their front doors - the sign of the Imperial Empire. Patch would not be happy if he found out that he was sleeping next to a camp full of staunch Imperial supporters.   
  
Then I perked up as I saw what looked like some sort of large mechanical vehicle parked behind the rows of squalid huts. Maybe I could steal it and get to this Engine thing, go home, crack open a Coke and forget this whole thing ever happened? Yeah. Maybe.   
  
Life's a bitch, and then you die. Nihilistic, but it works.   
  
I really wish I had a family. Even in this war-torn planet, people still have parents, children... they still have people who care for them. I have nothing and no one. I have nothing to live for.   
  
When I was in the SFMA, I had something to prove. I had to show them that I could succeed. I graduated. Boom. Finito. Now is there anything left to live for? Military service? Fighting for something that we don't know about? Religion? Morality? Belief?   
  
I sigh a lot. I wonder why.

* * *

Patch's eyes snapped open in an instant as he sensed movement.   
  
Jumping from a lying position to a fully upright one, he snapped his arm up to face the intruder, Desert Eagle already in hand -   
  
-And Rain casually brushed the barrel of the gun away from his face unconcernedly.   
  
"Geez, kid, you scared me for a second there."  
  
Rain glared at him. "No time for jokes. We have a possible hostile situation here. There's a camp full of people about 200 yards that way." He gestured behind him with his staff, deactivated and inert.   
  
"So?" Alex replied. It was not her day for making mental connections.   
  
"We need food, and rest. Any ideas?" Patch grunted, heaving the heavy chaingun onto his back and standing up.  
  
"They're a simple settlement. No need to hurt them." Rain muttered, clearly annoyed. It was a matter of personal interest that he got to the Engine as quickly as possible. If that meant he had to work with the O7 trooper, that meant it.  
  
Patch raised his voice. "You don't know nothin'. Here, everybody is the enemy. They support the fuckin' Imperial cause, and for that they would be willing to kill us."  
  
"So? There's still no need to hurt them. We can steal what we need and continue." Alex stifled a yawn. "And I'm tired."  
  
"They got some sort of machine down there. I don't know what it looks like, but it looks like it can travel." The SFMA graduate ran a hand through his dark hair. "It would be faster than walking, at any rate."  
  
"Good idea. Where you brought up, kid? Your mind works like a tactician."  
  
"It's the way we're taught." Rain answered readily. "Now... any ideas?"  
  
A man with his scalp shaved bare to show the Imperial diamond tattooed on his forehead patrolled the perimeter of the settlement, a cigarette clamped between his lips. It was unlit, since fuel for his lighter was out. Idly playing with a short knife, he scratched a few patterns into a table; the most recognizable being the Imperial insignia.   
  
Then, a rustling was heard.   
  
The guard's eyes flicked to the small patch of brush marking the edge of the camp, and the forest beyond. Probably just a forest animal of some sort. If it didn't bother them, he wouldn't bother it.   
  
Then a boy stumbled out of the brush. His dark hair ruffled about his head in a sort of untidy way, and a narrow strip of cloth tied around his head hid the universal Imperial tattoo the man assumed would be there.   
  
Something was odd about this boy, though... he carried himself with a certain air, but not arrogance. He was... unsure of himself. For some reason the guard was reminded of a redwolf cub - young and not completely in power, but still dangerous.   
  
"You got a light?" The man mumbled around a mouthful of damp tobacco. Quality was scarce these days... the Imperials in the cities despised smoking, deeming it a filthy habit. But he was damned if he'd let a political asshole somewhere accuse him of damaging the environment. As if there was much environment left to destroy anyway.   
  
The boy looked at him, startled. Evidently he had not expected the big, tough man to talk to him. Maybe he was scared. A grin split the guard's face, showing yellowed teeth discoloured by chewing unlit cigarettes.   
  
He was not prepared for the boy to flick out a platinum lighter and offer him the flickering yellow flame.   
  
Surprised, he muttered, "Thanks." Shielding the lighter from the wind, he held the narcostick in the flame a few seconds before the tip glowed. "Not many lighters these days."  
  
The boy replied in a cool, calm voice. In that next split second, the guard had to re-evaluate his opinion of the youth. "It was only fair to grant a last request."  
  
Eyes widened, the guard stumbled backwards in shock as the boy punched him in the face. Something gave - probably his nose, maybe a few teeth. He staggered wildly, trying to find the strength to yell out a warning.   
  
But then he noticed something was missing, and he shut up.   
  
The 'boy' held the lit cigarette in the two fingers of the hand he had used to punch with. "Don't you know smoking kills?" And with a perfect throw, the glowing narcostick hit the edge of a barrel. The symbol on the side was familiar; the flame and cross of a flammable liquid.   
  
Shoddy barrel work had ended up in a small leak of fuel at the bottom. It was enough.   
  
With an expanding CRUMP of heated air and combusting fuel, the camp awoke.   
  
Nothing was left of the guard except his smoking boots, which would have been almost funny if his feet weren't still in them.   
  
Rain sighed. Too easy. He only hoped the other two fared as well as he did.   
  
Over the noise and distraction of the explosion, two dark figures crawled behind the camp. One was a large, hulking figure, the other a slim female. In the shadows, hidden from sight, the girl slipped ahead and broke the neck of a guard with his back to her, requisitioning a plasma pistol.   
  
The bigger figure grunted as he sneaked ahead to join her. "Did you have to kill him?"  
  
"Felt like it." The girl cricked her neck and holstered the pistol. Gesturing to the side of the vehicle, she motioned him over. "Let's see what this is."  
  
The two fugitives sneaked into the scavenger camp to do a little grand theft auto. 


	5. DISK I: c4lv4ry

Rain brushed dirt from his slacks from where he had hit the floor to avoid fire. Bullets zinged over his head and ripped up the foliage above him. Seemingly unconcerned about the amount of ammo that was being used in a effort to kill him, he waited for the near-silent hollow 'click' of guns running dry.  
  
He moved then, as hands fumbled for fresh clips and mags. Too slow.  
  
Leaping up, he swung an inactivated end of his staff around in a high arc, impacting on bone with a wet crack. Swinging the other half of his body over and up, he leapfrogged, swiveling his staff to the plasma end to part flesh from bone. He was rewarded with a sizzle of flesh burning and a screech of pain.  
  
One had been quick enough to reload, and was just about to fire when Rain dove and rolled sideways, dodging ammo as it chattered from the gun. The cadet swept his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick, then flipped the plasma blade around to draw a thin red line across his stomach. The guard howled in agony, right before Rain flashed up an axe kick that nearly snapped the man's head from his neck.  
  
As he fell, Rain grabbed the dead man's hand and the still spastically twitching trigger finger, directing the stream of ammo at the others. They went down as if they had been cut, like trees.   
  
The gun went dry as the remaining two guards, armed with plasma weapons both, let rip, and the blue slash of plasma fire tore the corpse Rain was using as an impromptu cover nearly in half. Rain hit the deck for the second time that day, watching silently as plasma bolts burned gaping holes in the tree just above him.  
  
Then he was close enough to jump to his feet, grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck, hoisting his body up and over, his feet locking around the guard's waist as he twisted and flung him into the other.   
  
The other man, probably being too triggerhappy, tensed his finger. The burst of plasma energy hit the thrown guard in midair, burning a hole the size of a fist through his body. The dead man flopped to ground zero, knocking over the other.   
  
Rain paused, listening. It was too quiet...  
  
Then some sort of small vehicle that looked like it had been cobbled together from an assortment of scrap material burst out of the foliage, engine whining noisily. The driver gunned the motor heavily, trying to run Rain down.   
  
Rain rolled to one side as the odd machine steamed past, grabbing a branch and hauling himself up, away from the murderous driver. Hanging down, he desperately swung himself away as the man pulled out a gun.  
  
Jumping from one tree to the next, Rain briefly flashed back on his balance exercises, ducking once as the tree behind him sprouted a few bullet holes. He then darted sideways, reaching for the branch that wasn't there...  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
Rain tumbled end over end, finally landing painfully on his backside.  
  
The cadet cursed himself on his shoddy footwork, then froze as the barrel of a pistol nudged the back of his throat.  
  
"...damn."

* * *

**  
  
=14 =4745Y 3417Y  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk one: 5ive: calv4ry  
  
**

* * *

Well well well. I guess I'm not up to scratch after all. Should have been paying more attention.  
  
At least they haven't killed me yet. No, wait. There has to be torture, then examination, then more torture, and probably then I would be killed. Yeah. Standard hostage negotiations. How my instructors would love to see me now, down on my knees with a loaded gun aimed at my head.  
  
I turned around slowly, hoping that the idiot didn't misinterpret it as an attack and fire. Luckily, he didn't.   
  
He had a large scar down his cheek and he was grinning nastily. Real charming guy. He was also handling that gun as if he knew how to use it. Probably shouldn't try any last-minute desperation tactics, then.  
  
He motioned me to walk, keeping the gun trained on me all the while. I crossed my hands behind my head and sighed, dropping my staff, energy blades off. I liked that weapon. Probably have to find a new one now.  
  
I hoped Patch and Alex were alright. After all, they're the ones that want to save this world, right?  
  
As I stumbled back into the scavenger camp, my wrists were tied behind my back. I was then picked up and shoved none too gently into a small dark cell that reminded me vaguely of a cadet issue room locker.   
  
I lay there curled up into a tight ball, my head hitting the lid of the cell and my legs hitting the bottom. At least I had kept my pendant hidden away - they would probably had killed me for it if they had seen the flash of silver. Poor idiots.   
  
Through a crack in the wall I observed the people, all with a small red diamond mark on their foreheads. They must be people that follow that Imperial Empire Patch was talking about.   
  
I shuffled on my butt, trying to get a more comfortable position. In this I was not successful. There were people coming in every now and then with small sacks of food slung over their shoulders and the occasional odd bit of junk. Strange, overgrown dogs wandered the camp, growling to themselves, and barking at each other over territorial living space.  
  
Then I noticed something strange.  
  
My cell was near the perimeter of the camp, and at the edge of the small settlement I spotted movement.  
  
Not so much movement as a slight shifting of shadows, but, yeah, movement.  
  
My heart leaped. Was this Alex? I didn't know she took stealth courses in addition to track...  
  
The shadow froze as if it knew I was watching.  
  
Ah, to heck with it. I was probably just imagining things. I had failed in escaping capture, didn't I? Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I ignored it. Once, during a expedition training course (they dump you in the wild with nothing but a knife) I had broken my ribs, and had conditioned myself to eat only when necessary.  
  
But still...  
  
I filed the information away in my mind for further reference as the latch on the door to my cell clicked open. Two heavyset men dragged me out and forced me into a chair.  
  
One of them was Scarface. As he had captured me, he would definitely have the pleasure of interrogating me, yes sirree.  
  
He roughly brushed away my dark hair that had fallen over my forehead, and exclaimed. Of course - I didn't have one of their freaking diamond marks.  
  
Scarface spoke up in a sour grumble. "This one is probably a rebel. There is no mark on his head."  
  
Another woman, off to the side, complained. "He is too young for one. Probably hasn't even got the balls for it yet." I felt a momentary flash of anger. Try putting that stupid woman over the obstacle course back at the SFMA, and see if she had the balls.  
  
"But he is dangerous." Scarface continued. "He killed seven men and put Jimmy in the ward."  
  
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Seven?"  
  
I showed no sign that I had heard what they said, desperately trying to work loose my bonds while hoping not to attract too much attention.  
  
Scarface walked up to me, thrusting his face in mine. "You are a rebel, are you not? We get money for turning one of you in to the Empire, yes we do. You foolish boy."  
  
I worked up what little moisture was left in my throat and mouth and spat at him. He wiped his face with his sleeve and hit me in the face, hard. My head pounded with the dizzying pain.  
  
My head lolled around uselessly as I willed my eyeballs into focus. I heard laughing from the woman. "He's got spunk, alright."  
  
Scarface backhanded the woman with a vicious slap to the face that shut her up. "Do NOT annoy me, woman. I have enough on my hands as it is. Make sure the boy is fed, and lock him in his cubicle. We'll see if he is more willing to talk later."  
  
I winced, seeing the hot burn of anger on the woman's face. Scarface was such an idiot. Didn't he know that women were capable of making men's lives living hell?  
  
To my surprise, the woman bowed and walked out, followed by Scarface a while later. My stomach grumbled angrily at the mention of food, but as I forced it to calm down I felt a new pain - pity for the people of this world.   
  
I hoped again that Alex and Patch had better luck than I did.

* * *

Patch noted the size of the vehicle as they got closer. It was large - clearly big enough to hold at least two Chaos Mechs in complete battle armor.   
  
It, for lack of a better word, was a tank.  
  
But the word 'tank' hardly did it justice. It was so large that a small scavenger's hut had actually been built using one side of the vehicle as a wall. The O7 trooper felt a small amount of remorse at demolishing the poor fool's home.  
  
Getting up to the side of it, the trooper noted the red diamond on the side of the vehicle. It was a good choice - using this, they would be able to travel with relative immunity. The model number was also visible: DA00001A-P/T.  
  
P/T. Prototype.   
  
Must be a relatively new model, then.  
  
Alex noted the intricate heavy door. "They must have not been able to get inside." She said, gesturing to the scavenger camp.  
  
Patch nodded. "It's high tech stuff. Without the access codes you'd need a computer to get in, and hardly anyone has those anymore. I wonder what happened to the original crew, though?"  
  
"So how do we get inside, then?" Alex muttered, inspecting her new plasma pistol.   
  
"I did say hardly anyone has a computer anymore." Patch grinned, taking out the handheld data unit he had stolen from the O7 tech room before his and Kira's ill-fated mission.  
  
"...Oh."   
  
Alex watched as Patch fed a cable to the lock mechanism, using his laser cutting torch to expose the wires underneath the thick tank plating. A few taps on the miniature keyboard, and...  
  
And...  
  
Alex bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet, sparring with an imaginary enemy as she heard the sharp rap of gunfire from the other side of the camp. "Hurry up!! Rain's probably getting himself killed out there!"  
  
"Just a few more seconds...." Patch mumbled to himself as he worked frantically. "Yes! I'm in. Okay... type in the access override code : 1 - 2 - 3 - 6 - 2 - 8 - 0 - 1..."  
  
Alex moved to comply, punching in the numbers at the code panel.  
  
They both watched as the hatch popped open with a slight shifting of mechanisms, and slowly retracted.  
  
It didn't as much retract as seem to vanish silently into the walls. Patch scrambled to his feet, yanking the jack cable out of the keycode system. Alex stood in awe of the forces that could shift that much mass with so much ease.   
  
A smooth, modulated male voice spoke as Alex stepped into the 'tank', seeing dull grey metal plated walls and hard steel floors. "Welcome to Mobilised Artillery Attack System DA00001A. Welcome aboard."  
  
Patch hesitantly walked inside the war machine, seeing a digital schematic of the insides of the tank laid out on a screen. "I guess the Imperials recovered more of the Ancient technology than they let on."  
  
"Yeah!" Alex gestured to the tank schematic map. "I mean, it's got a bridge, main computer core, gunnery ports... living quarters, common room, kitchen....?"  
  
"I am Durandal. The facilities of this system are open to usage." The calming voice of the computer spoke from the speakers in the roof.  
  
"The bridge's that way." Alex pointed down one of the cramped corridors, looking at Patch.  
  
There was a pause, then both Alex and Patch moved as one, trying to get to the control room.   
  
"I'm driving!"  
  
"No WAY!!! Whose idea was it to steal this thing anyway?"  
  
"Actually, it was Rain's, but..."  
  
With much pushing and shoving, Patch used his superior body weight to block the smaller girl from getting through the cramped corridor. As the corridor widened, Patch scrambled into a small room with familiar controls - steering. Swinging himself into the leather seat, he smiled and laid his hands on the wheel.   
  
Alex arrived just a second too late, and took her seat in front of a comm console. "Drat. Beat me to it."  
  
Patch grinned. "Um... Durandal, is it?"  
  
The male voice from the computer was there, calming even at the most tense of moments. "Yes?"  
  
"Can we have... like, visual contact with the outside?"   
  
In response, the large screen on the front of the bridge sprang to life. "Outside sensors are fully functional. Engine at 80% and increasing. You are ready for manual control."  
  
Alex tapped a finger thoughtfully on her chin, leaning back on her chair to get comfortable against the cramped area. "Weapons systems?"  
  
A joystick rose up in front of her and a targeting reticule appeared on the overall screen. "Select the offensive weapon you want to use onscreen." Durandal spoke. "I am equipped with a main heavy bore shell cannon, four all-purpose attack missile ports, and gunnery ports are armed with GAUSS-24 pulse cannons."  
  
"Sweet." Alex mumbled.   
  
Patch fought down the overwhelming urge to ram the throttle and see how far and fast this thing would go, but he knew he had a job to do. "Let's do this."

* * *

Someone entering drew my attention. It was the woman from earlier, holding some sort of bread and a glass of some liquid that smelled strongly of paint thinner.  
  
"Sorry about this." She mumbled, the red mark on her face testimony to earlier violence. "It's horrible the way we treat children. You'd think the Empire is encouraging people to train their kids all to be killers."  
  
I force myself to pay attention, my wrists searing agony from having been rubbed bloody in an effort to escape the rough rope.   
  
"You know you'll have to feed me, unless you want to risk cutting my bonds."  
  
She withdraws a small knife and cuts the ropes, hardly sparing a glance for the blood on my hands. As my vision is now cleared, I can now see her face. Square jawed, with large jowls. But in her eyes there is the look of motherly affection I remember from Madame Tessaline....  
  
My mind drifts, back to a time long ago...  
  
"Rain. You know I love you as a son."  
  
"But I CAN'T stop looking for my parents! I need a FAMILY-"  
  
"This is your family. The others - they need you. They are your friends. I need you."  
  
My mentality snaps back to the present as the woman presses the glass into my hands. "Drink. Tastes awful, but it helps with the pain." I do so, and grimace. She is right, but as the throbbing fades, I nearly think it would not be worth it.  
  
I grab the loaf, nearly breaking my teeth on the toughness, but chewing forcefully anyway. After all, it is food. I give in to the hunger in my stomach, choking down the last of the bread until it is no more.   
  
She smiles. "I keep telling him that interrogation is no honest man's business, but he never listens..."  
  
I notice she is referring to Scarface, and down the rest of the glass, wincing at the unaccustomed, bitter taste.   
  
The woman takes the glass from my hands, and moves to bind my hands again. I struggle feebly, but she is insistent. Holding the length of rope now crusty with my dried blood, she gets ready to tighten the knot...  
  
An explosion is heard from outside.   
  
I feel a vague sense of deja vu, as the sharp rat-tat-tat of rifle fire and the low humming of plasma rounds being fired rings through the camp. I hear dogs barking, and occasional screams.  
  
The woman, distracted, walks to the end of the street corner and gasps.  
  
She runs.   
  
Seeing my captors now evidently otherwise occupied, I wrench my hands free with a scream, bathing my bloodied hands in a tub of water nearby.   
  
I see fire in the reflection of the water surface, and glance up.   
  
The vehicle I had tagged as an alternative form of transportation steamrolls past, flattening scavenger huts and causing general havoc. The big main cannon atop the turret fires once, and a nearby buildings shake.   
  
It is a tank.  
  
I shade my eyes from the sun outside, hoping against hope that it was not the scavengers that were in it.   
  
My fears are dispelled when the tank stops at the corner, and a large hatch swings open. Alex's grinning blonde hair appears at the entry hole. "Like a ride?"  
  
"Would I ever." I mumble. I drag myself through, feeling light-headed from the effects of the painkiller drink. "Get us out of here..."  
  
Then my mind fades to blackness, as I realise the truth.  
  
That drink was drugged...!

* * *

Alex supported an unconsious Rain, yelling in the direction of the nearest speaker. "Durandal, get us the heck out of here!!!"  
  
"Complying. Not to worry you, Alex, but my scanner has picked up the laser tracking signal of a targeting system."  
  
Patch grumbled something about rocket launchers, and Alex understood. "Laser-guided rockets?" She dumped Rain's unconsious body unceremoniously on the bridge floor and retook the weapons console. "You got a location for me?"  
  
Two small targeting circles appeared in the top left of the main tactical screen, showing two scavengers, one with a scar on his cheek, hiding behind a flimsy metal sheet riddled with bullet holes.  
  
Patch grinned. "Alex, give them a rocket of their own."  
  
Alex nodded. "On it. Durandal, Tube two, fire!"  
  
The Stinger missile screamed from the launch tube, slamming into the lock-on area, sending the targets straight up.   
  
"Target destruction confirmed." Durandal spoke.   
  
"Yeah... Let's go. We've done enough damage."  
  
This was true enough, as the Mobilised Artillery Attack System DA00001A rolled away from the scavenger settlement, the scavengers themselves not even bothering to give chase. The scavenger town lay in ruins, Durandal having simply crushed any small structure in the way.  
  
Even so, Patch did not slow the vehicle down until they had put at least ten miles between them and the settlement.

* * *

...A triangle within a circle...  
  
As I watched, it spun around to create an orb of pure silver.  
  
It glowed brightly, so bright it hurt to watch. As it spun, I reached out my hand for it. It was so close... so close...  
  
As my fingers closed around the pendant, the blackness receded and I awoke.  
  
Light was the first thing I was aware of. Blinding light, staring me in the eye.   
  
Then I realised I was on some sort of examination table, with the surgery light held right in my face.   
  
"Is he okay?" A voice that I recognised as Alex's spoke. Too loud, way too loud. Everything in my head hurt.  
  
"He will live." Another voice spoke, that I did not know. "His responses are sluggish, and his electrolyte balance is too low. He has, to put it in simple terms, been drugged."  
  
"He's a tough kid." A low rumbling voice said. Probably Patch. Still too loud - every syllable I heard hurt. "He will survive."  
  
"Look, he's awake!" Alex squealed. This felt weirdly like advanced biology in SFMA, except I now felt like the poor animal that was being dissected.  
  
"Drink." The smooth male voice spoke, as a small metal tube poked into my mouth. I took it gratefully, as sugared iced tea cascaded down my throat. I didn't say anything, just reveled in the feel of drinking. My throat felt way too dry.  
  
After a while the liquid flow in the tube stopped and it retracted. I blinked and sat up.  
  
Then my senses were overwhelmed by the feel of a warm, soft body pressing close to mine.  
  
Alex hugged me. "Thank god you're okay!!! I was worried!"  
  
I paused, not sure what to say.   
  
Then I noticed why it felt sort of breezy. I was mother-naked from the waist up, to show the nice collection of bruises I had accumulated during my capture. It kind of stung to have them touched, though.  
  
A warm feeling welled up inside me. So this is what it feels like to be wanted.   
  
Then Patch whacked me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me down again. "Well done. We got the vehicle. He's called Durandal. Say hi."  
  
"What?" I mumbled as Alex disenengaged from me and handed me my shirt, freshly cleaned.   
  
"Hello. I am Durandal, Mobilised Artillery Attack System Prototype DA00001A - the first of my kind." The small speaker grille in the wall spoke, with some small hint of pride.  
  
"It's a voice-activated computer." Patch murmured, as if to keep a long story short. "It controls one hell of a tank, though. The Imperials must have recovered more Ancient technology that we thought." His face clouded as he thought of the Imperial Army making an entire attack division of Durandals.  
  
"Busted hell out of the settlement, though." I dressed, the clean material sliding over tender bruises. "I can remember that much."  
  
Alex smiled widely. "Obviously, much better than walking."  
  
I nodded. "Where am I?"  
  
"In Durandal." Patch growled. "Evidently it's bigger than we thought."  
  
"It has a kitchen and a living room, too!!!" Alex laughed.  
  
"What happened to the original Imperial crew?" I voiced a thought, trying to ignore the pounding in my head, which was by now getting painfully familiar.  
  
All eyes turned to the speaker grille and the small sensor 'eye' next to it.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Durandal?" Alex asked.  
  
"There's something he's not telling us." I muttered. "Alex, you take Psychology back at the academy, don't you? How do you not know that this computer isn't going to drive us back to the nearest Imperial base and drop us off?"  
  
Alex sniffed.  
  
Patch's hand moved towards his waist, where he kept his Desert Eagle. "...yeah..."  
  
"The computer core's this way." Alex mumbled, still not willing to believe that Durandal could be a traitor.   
  
"Come on. Look at it this way - he's an Imperial machine. What's not to say he believes in Imperial laws?" I reasoned.  
  
Then the smooth voice of Durandal spoke up, now clearly distressed. "You... you could go to the computer core and see for yourself."  
  
Patch grunted, flipping his revolver from its holster. "Why should we trust you?"  
  
Durandal spoke again, rather coldly this time. "I helped you three out of the scavenger camp. I think one good turn deserves another."  
  
I sighed as a sullen Alex led the way.

* * *

Alex sniffed, hurt.  
  
She was a cadet just as well as Rain - why did he have to be the better one?  
  
Plus, what hurt was the fact that he was probably right. As much as Alex had liked the machine, Durandal was of Imperial make - the same Imperials that had mercilessly decimated an entire small camp of rebels with brute force.  
  
As the door to Durandal's core swung open, Alex gasped, shortly followed by Rain, who's jaw fell open, and Patch, whose hands tightened inside his gloves.  
  
In the small cramped space, the hardware of Durandal was exposed to their eyes. It was not the sophistication of the hardware, or even the way it worked that surprised them. In fact, above all the wires and humming stacks of computer memory, it was what it was all linked to that afforded the most attention.  
  
In a small cylindrical tank of nutrient fluid a brain floated, connected to the many wires that led to all the computer ware around the area. Humming coolant fans kept the temperature constant.  
  
The speaker grille in the small cramped space came to life. "Now you know what I am."  
  
Patch shifted his body so he could see the print on the side of the cylinder, and then placed his head in his hands. The print was easily visible:   
  
**HUMAN SUBJECT DAVID J SKYE  
  
NUMBER 20319A  
  
PROJECT BLUESHIFT  
  
PROPERTY OF IMPERIAL EMPIRE  
  
NEOTOKYO**

* * *

"P...project Blueshift." Patch's gruff voice shook with emotion.  
  
"What?" Alex said after her own brain rumbled into gear.  
  
"Project Blueshift." The voice of Durandal spoke. "That was the codename of the project that was debatably the cause of the Five-Minute War. The development of medical technology involving the actual transfer of human conciousness for applications in health."  
  
"It seems in this case they used it for A.I." Rain stared dully. "Is that what you are?"  
  
"I am not strictly artificial intelligence, Rain." The voice of Durandal spoke. I am biological, just like every one of you. My true name is David Skye, formerly a young trooper in the Imperial Empire."  
  
Patch sat down heavily.  
  
"They needed a way to improve industrial capacity in military supercomputers cadged from Ancient technology." Durandal went on. "As not enough data processing chips were left after the end of the Five-Minute War, the Imperial scientists thought they could use human brains to improve the rudimentary storage capacity of their own central processing units."  
  
"As the system needed young brain cells to develop its own growth potential, youths were chosen. I was the first. Young, inexperienced, and worth basically nothing to the Empire as a whole, the scientists drugged me, killed me, and then transferred my conciousness into this machine."  
  
The voice of Durandal held barely concealed contempt for what he was.   
  
"Do any of you know what it would be like? Waking up to find yourself in another body?" Durandal was showing anger now. "I hated it. But I had one large advantage - the Imperial scientists did not know I had become self-aware. They treated me just like another one of their precious computer components."  
  
"When the prototype of Mobilised Artillery Attack System DA00001A rolled off the test assembly line, I found myself in a new, powerful body. But DA00001A was designed to be manned, although I could control all its functions. The crew of four Imperial troopers had their fun - they used me to destroy rebel Chaos Mecha units. I hated what the Imperials had done - what they had done to me, and for that, I wanted revenge."  
  
Rain tapped his chin thoughtfully. Alex began to pity this poor creature, no, human, for what the Imperial Empire had done to him. The hatred was there, and had begun to grow.   
  
Durandal continued with his painful story. Patch was clearly affected - his anger worked up to a fever pitch as Durandal continued.  
  
"I waited until all four of the crew members left me to party at one of the nearby towns, and then I left, swearing vengeance on the entire Imperial Army. For weeks, I drifted aimlessly, lost. Then I remembered tales of the rebels. Surely they would take me in and welcome me." The voice grew sad. "But then my sensors detected a massive ion wave from the origin of the Rebel O7 forces."  
  
Patch slammed a fist down on the nearest bulkhead, denting it slightly. "All of us died in that ion blast."   
  
"The O7 Rebels are... destroyed?" Durandal's voice held a trace of disbelief. "I did not know for certain. I could not approach the area, as the residual ion radiation would fry my sensors."  
  
"The rebels are no more." Patch said. "We are all that is left."

* * *

My heart went out to Durandal.   
  
I knew what it was like to not be accepted. I knew what it was like to have the world against you. I knew his pain.  
  
The proof was all there. Durandal, even for a machine, sounded too human. He was, after all.  
  
Once more, I remembered the O7, that small band of rebels that fought valiantly against the larger foe. My own anger at the Imperial Empire grew, and with it, the desire to just return home and leave this world grew slightly less.   
  
My eyes met Alex's. Using humans as information storage systems...! The message in her glare was only too obvious. Some day, someone will pay dearly for this.  
  
Durandal spoke up. "I saw you hijack me, and guessed that you were not Imperials. I was right in that respect, as you commandeered me to decimate a small Imperial scavenger settlement."  
  
"So, what. You're going to help us?" Alex said, slowly beginning to trust Durandal again.  
  
"Yes. I want revenge on the monsters that did this to me. After that, I may rest easy. To put it as my human side would say, Lieutenant Patch, I'm yours to command until the Imperial Empire is neck deep in shit and sinking." Durandal answered, the voice sounding much more friendly. "I will help you in any way I can."  
  
Patch cracked his knuckles. "Well, get ready, kids. We have a long way to go."  
  
Alex and I followed him back to the bridge, sealing Durandal's core room door. I put a hand on Alex's shoulder for a moment, but she was in no mood to talk.  
  
"Hey, Alex, wait-"  
  
"Still want to go home now?" She sneered. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. How selfish."  
  
"Look - "  
  
She interrupted. "You know what they did to him. That is inhuman. It is just wrong."  
  
"I know. I pity him, but face the facts, Alex! We don't belong here! This isn't our world. Not our problems! Not our time to interfere! We go home and sort out our own problems!"  
  
She glared at me. "How can you be so cold!"  
  
And with that, she was gone.  
  
I walked into the bridge, glumly viewing the main screen display, watching Patch drive Durandal across miles and miles of desert. Getting bored, I made my way to the crew quarters.  
  
Alex's backpack was on the upper bunk of the two small bunk beds in the quarters. The gatling gun was on the lower bunk of the other. Sighing, I took the bunk below Alex's.   
  
Lying down, I was in troubled dreams and about to doze off when I noticed the small speaker grille next to the bed.  
  
"Dave?" I mumbled.  
  
There was a pause.   
  
Then there was a small voice emanating from the speaker. "It's... been a long time since anyone's called me that."  
  
"...Would you prefer Durandal?" I murmured, slightly peeved.  
  
"No, it's fine." The computer/human answered.  
  
"Well, Dave... what were you like? Before all this, I mean. Before your... transfer."  
  
There was another pause. "Well, Rain, I can only say... I was much like you in some ways. I played the game of life solely for myself, trying to know my role and constantly fit into the pattern..."  
  
I sighed. "But... isn't that what we're supposed to do? Go along with life, no hitches, nothing causing problems for people that run life..."  
  
Durandal spoke clearly and firmly. "Let me put it to you this way. When the Imperials took over the Earthbreaker Army, I kept my silence. I was not one of the Earthbreakers. When they took over the businesses, I kept my silence. I was not a businessman. When they took over the schools, I kept my peace. I was not a student. When they came for the government, I kept my silence. I was not one of them. When they came for the Rebels, I kept my silence. I was not a Rebel."  
  
I rolled over in bed, now facing the speaker grille. "What then?"  
  
"When the Imperials came for me, there was nobody left to resist."  
  
I sighed heavily. "Dave... you don't know me. I'm... not from around here."  
  
"No joking." The computer/human said.  
  
"Look, I'm not from this world. Neither Alex or I are from here. We came here through some sort of magical mixup."  
  
"... a Remove spell?"   
  
"Yes." I said, glad that someone was finally here that knew what was happening. "Apparently it was one-use only. Now I have to reactivate something called a Reality Engine so I can go home." I continued, angry with the injustice of the universe. "I would take Alex with me, but she's been eager to show off her academy prowess beating up Imperials. Plus, she has a strong sense of right and wrong, and apparently she will not tolerate wrong, in this reality or her own."  
  
Durandal kept his peace until I had calmed down somewhat. Then he replied, in a calm, even tone that I found soothing, despite the gravity of the situation. "...Don't you think that this could happen to your own reality?"  
  
I didn't answer. Ignoring the computer, I closed my eyes.

* * *

Alex lounged on the sofa in the main common lounge - the largest room in Durandal, and also the most luxurious, showing off a carpet, TV/multientertainment system, and half-decent furniture.   
  
The SFMA blonde, for lack of a better word, was bored.   
  
Bored bored bored.  
  
She screwed up her eyebrows in concentration as she thought of something she could do to end the tediousness of the journey. Patch got to drive, so what could she do?   
  
Eyeing the small speaker grille above the TV, Alex smiled briefly. "Durandal?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you receive any, like, TV signals?"   
  
"No, as the broadcasts made from short-range Imperial stations are all of a wavelength that I cannot detect now."  
  
"That's pointless..." Alex muttered.  
  
"Not really." Durandal answered. "We have a wide range of DVD's that survived the Five Minute War. Not much else did."  
  
"...DVD's?" Alex perked up. "This could be interesting..."

* * *

Meanwhile, Patch was grinning widely as he manuevered the big vehicle around. It felt good to be in control of something this powerful, alright. The only other experience that had rivalled this was piloting a Chaos Mecha.   
  
But although DA-000001A lacked the grace of one of the Chaos Mechs, it more than compensated with sheer power. The combustion engine sent a low rumble through the entire framework as it pushed the bulk of the machine forward. A machine that had a combustion engine left over from the past nuclear war was a rare thing indeed. Most Imperial machines now used mana generators, after all. Cleaner, but according to the long printouts that the Magic Guild churned out on a weekly basis, more dangerous.   
  
He relaxed, thinking. It had been a long time since he had driven a machine with a true combustion engine. The last time had been a routine O7 supply run - a cargo truck that had been victim to the Imperial Rocket division. That one had been a real snarl... only the arrival of a pair of Chaos Mecha had allowed him to escape unscathed.   
  
And Kira, of course....  
  
His thoughts drifted back to the girl he had been thinking of for a long time. Where had she gone? According to the Reality Engine's core computer... someplace called Hades... He didn't like the name. And he didn't like the thought of his partner in crime/war liquified and piped through a magical hole in space-time.   
  
He shook his head. Why had he been thinking about her so much, anyways? It's not like he cared...  
  
Well, he did. Kira was more than a friend to him... wasn't she? That's why Patch himself was trying to get her back from the Reality Engine. She was a magical powerhouse, and also a skilled fighter - if anybody in the O7 was indispensable, it was her.  
  
But the O7 were gone...  
  
That was why it was crucial that Rain allowed him to use the Key. He had to get Kira back.   
  
Not just for himself, but for the future of this world. Of this reality.   
  
The thought deflated his happy mood, and he gripped the steering system tightly. Would Rain be at all willing to help them? Would he? The kid had shown himself as a more than adequate fighter, and a smart thinker. Patch wouldn't blame him at all for not wanting any part of this. After all, what was left of the world was bad enough after the Five-Minute War.   
  
Patch drove on late into the night before calling a halt.

* * *

I woke to silence. Evidently we had stopped sometime ago, as the slightly audible hum of the powerful engine had now fallen silent. My watch had stopped working, but from my natural time-sense I guessed that it was about nightfall.  
  
I got up, purposefully avoiding looking at the speaker grille next to my bed, and got dressed, running a hand through my own hair in a attempt to smooth it back into position.   
  
I briefly entertained the thought of meeting up with Alex, but then I remembered she was most likely still pissed off at me. Well, I was hungry, anyway. And she would probably be there.  
  
Going over my mental map of Durandal one more time, I managed to blunder on the kitchen, where (wouldn't you know it?) Alex was, making toast.  
  
Silently cursing my luck, I forced myself to sit down next to her as she munched. I probably had to apologise - it would be the nice thing to do anyway, and I didn't relish the thought of having the only other person that knew about our home reality hate my guts.  
  
I opened my mouth -   
  
-and she interrupted, nearly snarfing a mouthful of toast. "If you're here to say you're sorry, now is not the time."  
  
"Why?" I asked, lamely.   
  
She gestured at the small stack of toast. "I'm hungry."  
  
I kicked myself mentally. "...Um, well... I'm going to say it anyway."  
  
"Go ahead." She said, starting on a fresh piece of toast. "Get it over with."  
  
"..." I started.  
  
"Come on! It can't be that hard..." Alex teased mirthlessly.  
  
"Well... I... I'm sorry for being such an asshole. What they did to Dave was wrong, and we both know it."  
  
She nodded, which I took as a sign to continue. "But I am not going to have any part in this world going to hell in a wastebasket. It's over. This place is hopeless and you know it."  
  
Alex continued chewing her toast.   
  
I was on a roll, though, and showed no signs of stopping. "I just want to go home. I've realised that this isn't just a friggin' dream, but just another failed reality. Emphasis on failed." I considered stopping, but now I was in over my head - I just had to speak the thoughts I had been keeping bottled up for ages.   
  
It was all bursting out.  
  
"This isn't our world. They don't need us here. They don't want us here. This world wants me dead. Just a few hours ago I was held hostage and beaten up. Would that have happened back home? You tell me." I couldn't stop myself. "Look at Patch. The Rebels are his life. Now they're gone. You saw how he lost it. This isn't our world. Let him sort it out."  
  
The resounding sharp CRACK hit me at just about the same time the slap did.   
  
Alex stood, plate empty, cheeks burning, eyes aflame with fury, hand raised.   
  
I paused, feeling the red mark on my face.  
  
She dropped her plate in the disposal, and left.  
  
Dammit.  
  
I felt even more like shit now than before.  
  
I needed a think.  
  
Then I looked up at the small speaker grille set high into the wall and the small electronic 'eye' next to it. I cursed. Damn you, Durandal.  
  
Losing my patience, I keyed the ceiling hatch and climbed out.   
  
I was right; it was dark outside. The sky shone with thousands upon thousands of stars, shining with varying degrees of brilliance. Durandal had pulled to a halt in the middle of a small glade, allowing me to see a clear sky unblemished by clouds.   
  
Lying down on the cool outer armor of the tank, I looked up at the sky. It was kind of painful to remind myself that this place was not our Earth, as many of the constellations were similar to the ones from our own reality.   
  
The classic Tri-Star, for example, stood shining in its odd trio of stars, as well as the long body of the Great Dragon stretching across the sky. For some reason the sky calmed me somewhat.   
  
For a fleeting second I was reminded of my dreams of the universe and the stars beyond. I lifted the shape of my pendant up to the dark sky, and it shone dully, despite there being no light to reflect off it to speak of.  
  
The triangle within a circle...  
  
My mind drifted.   
  
I was depressed, to say the least. Why would I be concerned about Alex's feelings towards me?  
  
That would mean... that I cared about her.  
  
Well, that was true enough... but what worried me was how in the hell it had happened. Back home, I had always been the loner. Nobody cared about me and I didn't care about anybody.  
  
But here... Alex had cared about me. She had been worried when I had been captured. She had looked distressed when I had been nearly killed by Renaku. She had cared.  
  
My mind flashed back to the hug she had given me. The only person I knew that had given me a hug was Madame Tessaline, and even so, that was more of a 'motherly affection' hug. She was also mother to about 40 other children, so that really didn't count.  
  
But Alex...  
  
My mind panicked with the thought of having a girlfriend. Like all those people back at the SFMA that spent loads of money on each other. I didn't have much money to spend, anyways.   
  
I was so tired.   
  
Slowly, I drifted off, my mind troubled by thoughts of girlfriends, purple stars, and hugs.

* * *

Nearby, a shadow watched, eyes glowing ice-blue.   
  
The shadow stood, motionless, invisible to nearly all other eyes.  
  
It looked at the slumbering form of the teenager for minutes more before vanishing into the darkness, unseen and unheard. 


	6. DISK I: not emotionless

_Some time ago..._  
  
Renaku of the Imperial Empire, spy and all-round not nice person, hummed quietly as strains of heavy metal rock music blared in his ears. He did not turn around for the arrival of someone behind him.   
  
"You called?" The person said.   
  
"I need your services once again." Renaku spoke, only half-listening.  
  
The person addressed let out a small intake of breath. "Let me guess. The rogue rebels?"  
  
"Too right." Renaku nodded in time to the music. "We got word from a scavenger outpost that they came, saw, and wrecked. They must be stopped."  
  
"And you chose me because..."  
  
Renaku jammed the volume control. "The obvious. There are better spies, but you are one of the few without that damned Imperial diamond tattoo on your forehead, apart from Dr. Shaw, and she is otherwise occupied with the Reality Engine."  
  
"I keep my loyalties where my heart lies."  
  
Renaku sighed. "I had my tattoo on my back to hide it. You?"  
  
"I'd much rather not say. As the saying goes, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."  
  
"I understand that. There is a hover transport waiting for you at Launch Post Gamma."  
  
The figure smirked. "Arrogant bastard. You like being in power, don't you?"  
  
Renaku frowned. "The last time I checked, yes."  
  
"Then watch it. Playing with fire is dangerous."  
  
And with a toss of fiery red hair, the figure was gone.   
  
Renaku tightened his fingers on the hilt of his sword. That girl always got on his nerves. But she was one of the best... and a Ryukin at that...

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk one: 6ix: not (e)motionless  
  
**

* * *

It was a warm afternoon. The type of afternoon that makes you just want to sit down with a good book and a pitcher of iced tea and just chill, for heaven's sake.   
  
But that wasn't an option, with a massive worldwide superpower hot on your heels chasing you all the way. Rain had to settle for sunbathing on top of the tank.   
  
It was not the most comfortable of situations. Bare skin against baking metal plate does not tend to feel comfortable, after all. But it was nice to be doing something, after all. Patch was busy driving, even though he could have well let Durandal handle the steering. Alex was engaged in watching Durandal's collection of DVD's. Amazing that a computer could have that much storage space, after all.  
  
Cursing, the teenager twisted the top off some sort of fizzy sports drink he had found in the cargo hold and took a swig. Then he nearly spat the stuff back out again.   
  
It tasted like crap.  
  
But it was better than the lukewarm water that came out of Durandal's kitchen taps, after all. Grimacing, Rain forced himself to swallow. Liquid was not all that common in the dry wastelands, Patch had said. Durandal had also agreed, and added that he needed to replenish his own water supplies at our next river stop.  
  
The landscape had become blessedly familiar. Lampost, lampost, lampost, occasional scraggly patch of grass, remains of a building, et cetera, continued.  
  
Rain couldn't remember the last time he had ate. The immediate thirst now slated with hunger, he dropped down through the circular hatch, wincing slightly as his sunburned skin smarted against the cool interior of the test-type tank DA-00001.  
  
He waited for Durandal to acknowledge him. Security was security, after all. The modulated voice eventually emanated from the speakers, cool and even. Rain suddenly envied the cyborg, hooked up to a machine, unable to feel things as superficial as physical pain. His whole body stung.   
  
"Welcome, Rain. Do you require anything?"  
  
"Can the machine act, Dave." Rain cut back scathingly. "I'm not in a good mood. Got anything that's actually edible in the kitchen?"  
  
"A few tins. Not much. We need to restock at the next station. When I left my original crew I never thought I would be needing supplies for humans again."  
  
"Just great. Got any lotion?"  
  
Durandal paused. "I believe your female friend has a bottle of skin moisturiser among her possessions."  
  
"Screw it." Rain sighed. "Are you sure that you haven't got any?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
Rain let out another long breath. "You know she's still annoyed with me."  
  
Durandal let out a short cough, one that would probably be associated with the word 'duh'.  
  
Rain turned his back on the robotic eye set in the top of the doorframe. "You may be a cyborg. But comfortingly, you're still capable of error." He strode through the tight corridor that connected the main sections of Durandal.   
  
Durandal sighed inwardly. Rain could be so stupid. He was SO obviously interested in the girl.  
  
Snapping his conciousness outside to the external sensors, the cyborg noticed the sky got increasingly darker as Patch drove on. He filed away a personal note to switch to treadwheels as the first drops of rain fell.

* * *

Patch sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering mechanism, listening to the soft ka-chunk of Durandal's wheels reconfiguring themselves to deal with the change in weather. He was nearly there, provided the Imperials hadn't packed up and moved the entire Reality Engine into the Imperial City.   
  
His gut instinct thought otherwise. Patch Randall, as a veteran trooper of the late O7 Rebel organisation, had learned to trust his gut instinct, as it had saved him more times than he could count. He knew he could count on it to save him again.  
  
What would happen when they reached the Reality Engine? Patch's mind whirred. Rain so far had been unwilling to help. But if he was willing to sacrifice his pendant... the O7 trooper could send both the kids home, and go hunt for Kira on his own... as long as he had the Key.  
  
The Key. The blasted Key. It always came back to that, didn't it? His mind thought back to the Imperial scientist that he and Kira had fought, before she had been spirited away. What was her name again? Catherine something or other...  
  
It didn't matter. He loved Kira. And he was damned if he'd let something like a mere parallel universe stand in the way of that.

* * *

I tossed my raven hair over my back and sighed as the patter of the first raindrops rang hollowly on Durandal's metal armor. Perfect timing yet again.  
  
I was very much tempted to go sit outside and let the rain wash away my fears, my worries, and my goddamned sunburn. Downing the last of the strange energy drink, I resolved to go ask Alex. She may be in a cranky mood, but nothing was worth the pain.   
  
My chest was an angry, lobster red, and although I couldn't see it, I knew my back had to be the same. My shirt was still off, as it stung too much to put it back on.   
  
As I suspected, she was in the lounge with the lights dimmed, watching something on the large screen that was supposed to be used for tactical briefing.   
  
She doesn't even look up at me as I enter. "What do you want?"  
  
"Um..." I blush, as I notice that I am naked to the waist. "Durandal said..."  
  
Alex smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Relax. It's nothing I haven't seen before anyway." I remember the time that she had hugged me.   
  
"Yeah..." I wince as I try to lean back against a wall and the cold metal contacts my irritated skin. "Our computer buddy says you had some moisturiser."  
  
She shrugs, eyes still on the screen. As I watch, a boy and girl kiss. I drag my eyes away from the scene to look at Alex.  
  
"Won't work. It's not designed for sunburn."  
  
I close my eyes. "Please."  
  
She finally looks at me harshly for a few moments before reaching into her ever-present pack next to her and pulling out a small bottle of some creamy substance. Passing it to me, she returns to watching the screen.   
  
Thankfully, I squirt some of the stuff into my palm. It seems slightly oily, but it is cool, and for that I am grateful. Suddenly incredibly concious Alex was in the room, I proceed to literally swamp myself in the stuff. Arms, chest, face, back...  
  
Try as I might, I cannot get to my back properly. I can extend my arms around my back easily, but actually using some sort of manual dexterity behind me is beyond my abilities.   
  
I grab my shoulders and arch over, trying to just reach that pesky spot... then I fall on my back on the floor. Which leads to the pain in my back flaring up again. I fight the urge to yell in surprise and look at Alex.  
  
To my surprise, she is laughing. "You're flexible, aren't you?" She asks, her eyes alight with merriment.   
  
My heart lifts a little. This is the first emotion I've seen from her since she lost her temper at me. Then again, being a SFMA cadet, emotion is against our training. I pause, wondering if I haven't violated our instructor's teachings.  
  
Then I forget about it as she motions for me to sit down. "Sunburn, huh?"  
  
I nod, unsure of what she is about to do.   
  
She looks at me firmly. "Here's a deal. You say you're sorry for what you said before, and I help you with your back."  
  
I frown. "But-"  
  
She turns away from me again, immersed in whatever the hell is playing on the screen.   
  
I sigh. Girls. Although I don't know it, she is probably thinking 'Boys'.   
  
Well, thinking back to it... I guess it was kind of cold. I mean, Patch's world may be a mess, but... we were SFMA, after all. Weren't we trained to help those others couldn't?  
  
Yeah. Okay. I grin mentally. I may have graduated, but I had forgotten the basic teachings of Madame Tessaline, back at the orphanage. She had cared about me. She could have left me crying, lying in the gutter, to die of cold and hunger, as if I was her problem... but she didn't. She took me in.   
  
She was right. She always was. And this time, so was Alex.  
  
I sigh, blowing a strand of dark hair out of my eyes. "I'm... sorry. I've been a selfish idiot, only caring about myself, not worrying about what would happen to this world. It's true what you said. While I was in the SFMA, I became... what my instructors wanted me to be. Emotionless. But I'm not."  
  
She smiles, that radiant smile of hers, lighting up the whole room. I shake my head. "I'm sorry."  
  
She grins widely. "Apology accepted. Now stop moaning like a wimp and get your back over here."

* * *

Patch sighed. Rain had to be uncooperative, didn't he? He had to be the selfish bastard.   
  
"Troubled, Lieutenant Patch?" Durandal's smooth voice broke the silence. "I may not be a human judge of character anymore, but you seem worried."  
  
"I am." The O7 trooper made no secret of his worries. "I... don't think Rain will be willing to help me in my quest."  
  
Durandal did the mental equivalent of a smirk. "I wouldn't worry about that, sir."  
  
Patch was interested in spite of himself. "And why would that be?"  
  
In response, a small image popped into existence in the lower corner of the main tactical screen. It only took the seasoned veteran a couple of minutes to realise that this was a video feed. As he watched, the video rewound a couple of minutes, and started to play, the sound coming from Durandal's speakers.   
  
_"I'm... sorry. I've been a selfish idiot, only caring about myself, not worrying about what would happen to this world. It's true what you said. While I was in the SFMA, I became... what my instructors wanted me to be. Emotionless. But I'm not."_  
  
Patch paused for a while, then smiled to himself, closing the video file. "Thank you, Durandal. You've just restored my belief in what's left of the human race."  
  
"Think nothing of it." Durandal said, and fell silent.   
  
Patch smiled for the first time in a long while. He really had to look into the mystery of this SFMA thingy the kids came from. If they trained kids like that...  
  
The experimental tank DA-000001A continued on its merry path, completely unpreturbed by the rain and mud that seemed to have swamped most of the area. Durandal trudged steadily forward, combustion engine settling into a regular hum as it drove the massive machine forward.   
  
Sky darkened by clouds, with occasional flashes of thunder, hampered Patch's ability to see. He sighed as he downshifted gears, travelling slow in order to avoid a serious collision.   
  
The O7 trooper leaned back, reclining against the surprisingly comfortable nav harness.   
  
That was also why he was completely unaware of the impending attack.  
  
A small figure huddled over a dirt bike surged forward, one hand held high. On that gloved hand a few small green gems sparkled brightly.   
  
The figure began to mutter quietly as she slowly caught up to the slowing experimental vehicle.  
  
"Howling breath of winter, freeze the blood! DiIce!"  
  
Ice spells are not generally projectile attacks. Instead, the air around the selected target will slowly crystallise, until the target is momentarily trapped in a thin layer of ice.   
  
In the case of the DA-000001-A, however, as it was raining, the slush of mud and water around Durandal froze solid.  
  
Patch jerked forward in his harness as Durandal came to a shuddering halt, nearly throwing him into his nav screen.   
  
"What the HELL?!"

* * *

I let out a deep sigh of appreciation as Alex expertly worked her fingers over the tightened muscles in my back, working out the kinks and stress, not neccessarily in that order.   
  
I had never felt this good. Sure, it stung like hell to have her touch my back like that, but, damn, it was worth it. The lotion soothed the burning feeling, after all.   
  
I turned my head, and almost saw her smiling. Her neck-length blonde hair was strung up in a short ponytail that did not obscure her face. I felt like telling her she was beautiful, but then shook it off, emotion once more buried under common sense. She was waaaay out of my league. Don't even think about it, Rain, I told myself.  
  
Then Durandal, unexplicably, ground to a sudden halt, and we were both thrown off the sofa.   
  
Luckily, we missed the glass coffee table that was bolted to the floor. If we had hit that, the situation would have been a lot more uncomfortable.   
  
"Whoa-!!!"   
  
We rolled over each other, me hitting the far wall painfully. She was luckier, no hard impact for her, as she landed -   
  
-right on top of me.  
  
Her eyes met mine, russet orbs gazing into my own.   
  
No way. No freaking way.  
  
I felt my face flush and saw her blushing, as well. She was Right. On. Top. Of. Me!  
  
Body to body. Eye to eye. Face to face. - I forced myself to break out of that chain of thought, as that led way to easily to mouth to mouth.  
  
My chest was still bare.  
  
She was warm. Very warm, in fact. I fought the blindingly instinctual urge to hold her close.   
  
I knew I could not be thinking clearly. I had just had a minor concussion, how could I be on the floor with this desirable girl on top of me, no dammit, not desirable, stop thinking about her before you shoot yourself in the foot -   
  
"...!!!" I managed.  
  
Okay. You have a girl, blonde, attractive, on TOP of you... What do you do? Do you do the manly thing and stand up, apologising?  
  
I mean, she doesn't even know me! I've fought alongside her, lived with her these few days, shut up in Durandal... All these thoughts flashed through my head at lightspeed, as -   
  
... as Durandal interrupted.  
  
I _swear _to this day he had been watching.  
  
"Not to interrupt anybody doing anything important..." He paused. "But we have an emergency."  
  
Grateful for the emergency, whatever the hell that was, I rolled sideways and sprung up in a classic vertical standup manuever.   
  
Emergencies I could deal with. And this girl you can't? A little voice in the back of my head mumbled. Shutupshutup...  
  
Doing the gentlemanly thing and offering Alex a hand up that she gratefully took, I realised I was still blushing like an idiot. Rain, you fool, concentrate! You can't go into a battle situation like this...  
  
Slowly, I cleared my mind of all emotion, pushing it into the back of my conciousness. "What's the story, Durandal?" Alex asks, offering me a guilty little smile.   
  
I nearly let the emotion wash over me again at the sight of that smile, but I keep myself cold, battle mask in control.   
  
Then Patch's familiar gruff voice echoed through the speakers. "Rain, I need you and Alex to get to the bridge right _FREAKING NOW_, whatever the hell you two have been doing."  
  
He hasn't even finished his sentence before I am already running, dashing for the door, through the corridor, and away. I am nearly there when I realise I am still half naked. I double back to snag my shirt, shrugging it on at top speed before sprinting back to the bridge, feet pounding on the iron deck.  
  
Alex is already there when I stumble in. Neither of the two notice, as their attention is riveted on the tactical screen, which is showing a feed from an outside sensor.  
  
"We seem to have a problem." Durandal states calmly. Way too calmly. "The surrounding area seems to have... frozen."  
  
"What the hell?" I mumble to myself. "I was sunbathing this afternoon..."  
  
Durandal's vocal sensors pick up my comment, however, and he replies. "We have a mage on our tail."  
  
"Not good." Patch grunts, reaching for his gatling cannon salvaged from the MEDUSA battle. "Probably Imperials sending a spy to check up on us."  
  
"Or an assassin." Dave puts in. "My primary defensive systems would have engaged the intruder already, but it seems the frozen rain is preventing me from acting at 100% efficiency."  
  
"Meaning we have to take care of this ourselves." Alex cracked her knuckles.   
  
Durandal answered curtly. "Yes, and I would advise you do so soon. We are now in the perfect position to be attacked by any magic spell - immobile, and defenceless. So, I naturally expect that attack to be any second now."  
  
He was right, of course. I was without a weapon, but there was a short length of loose pipe around. I picked it up. It was better than nothing, at any rate.   
  
The ceiling hatch wouldn't open. Patch blew the explosive bolts, but the hatch just fell away, revealing a layer of ice over the top.  
  
But the O7 trooper was not one that would give up easily. He pulled a portable laser torch from his belt and began to carve a hole in the ice.  
  
I lost my patience.   
  
"Dammit, get out the WAY!!!" I took the pipe and swung it at the ice with all my strength. To my delight, it cracked.   
  
I did it again and two seconds later, I broke through.

* * *

Tara, age 22, Imperial spy, thief, and assassin, smirked.   
  
The rain continued to fall. How perfect.   
  
She was still pleased with the way things were going.  
  
She was plastered in mud, head to foot from the chase, her bike had been ditched, and her fiery red hair hung limply around her face in bedraggled, damp strands, but she was in a good mood.   
  
This was why. The tank that had seemed so intimidating had been so easy to neutralise. She was confident and in control. She had powerful spells at her disposal.  
  
She was going to end this. And it wouldn't take much.  
  
"You owe me big for this, Renaku." She mumbled to herself. "Because, dammit, I'm cold." Sentiments done with, she started a new spell. "Untamed ferocity, drawn from the limitless skies above! _DiBolt_!"  
  
The sky split asunder, as among the droplets of rain, a large bolt of electricity hit the experimental tank.   
  
Sparks flew. Electricity crackled around the tank.  
  
Tara turned her back on the scene. Victorious. And Renaku had even warned her against the Rebels. What was so bad about them after all?  
  
Then a SFMA academy cadet issue trek boot impacted solidly with her chest, stopping that train of thought cold. The female assassin groaned as she landed facedown in a pool of mud.  
  
She rose, her face a mask of fury.   
  
To face one kid, barely out of his teens, holding up a length of pipe, beckoning to her, in the classic 'bring it' gesture.  
  
Tara grinned. Looks like this is going to be fun after all, she thought. Casting off her cloak, she cricked her neck once, sideways. Then her gloved hands flicked to her belt, and two long sai knives appeared in her hands.  
  
The kid raised an eyebrow. The figure in front of him was attractive, maybe even blatantly so. A low-cut brown suit that showed her navel. Sleeveless. Tight slacks that did nothing to impede her movement. However, the image was spoiled by the fact that she was plastered in mud.  
  
Tara was good. No, scratch that, better than good. She could cut somebody to shreds with a knife no longer than your index finger. She grinned in anticipation of a good fight.   
  
She rushed forward, right blade spinning in a deadly arc, left up to intercept a blow that she knew was coming. The kid didn't disappoint, the length of pipe whirling up to hit her left blade...  
  
... and twisting his body away from the right knife, ducking underneath it and sending up a spray of muddy rainwater with a fast sweeping kick. The redhead flinched back from the droplets, leaving herself open for a rising uppercut and a midair German suplex that literally buried her in mud.   
  
Rain blew a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes upwards. Not bad.   
  
He was not ready for the knife-wielding assassin to burst out of the muck, hitting him painfully in the gut with the handle of the right knife while the left slashed his cheek open.  
  
Rain had been able to dodge away fast enough, so the blade only nicked him. But it would leave a horizontal scar on his right cheek. Tara smirked in anticipation of victory, plunging both knives forward in a bladed dual punch.   
  
Seemingly out of nowhere, the pipe appeared, as both the knives struck sparks against the blunt metal object. Thrown off course, Tara couldn't draw back in time, so a roundhouse kick to the stomach made her crumple.   
  
That was not good. She was losing this fight. She couldn't lose, or Renaku would be seriously annoyed.   
  
Gloved hand outstretched, she muttered, gasping for breath. "Eclipse at midnight, shadows swallow sight! Blind!"  
  
A small localised fog of darkness appeared around Rain's eyes. Panicked, the boy struggled to see where the next attack was coming from, but to no avail. The kick knocked him back onto his butt in the mud, and only hearing the humming of the sai knife passing through air saved him from a early demise.  
  
Flipping on to his feet (and trying not to slip on the pool of mud and water that could be treacherous in this fight, he closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the rain against his face.  
  
Tara was surprised when the boy somehow managed to dodge two more vicious strikes designed to incapacitate him permanently. The next knife swipe was stopped as Rain managed to grab her arm, twist it sideways, and disarm her of the knife. The sai flew through the air to bury itself in the ground.   
  
The other knife was still a threat, but Rain managed to dodge all of them as well. Tara grew increasingly puzzled and frustrated with each strike, as he managed to stay alive.   
  
"How do you do this! You're blind!" She screamed in frustration.  
  
Rain moved around her, grabbing her knife arm and bending it at an angle it was never meant to go, making Tara drop the remaining sai in agony.   
  
"There are ways of seeing other than plain sight." Rain replied matter-of-factly. Launching into a series of multiple strikes, he went on the offensive.  
  
Tara was forced to block each punch with her forearms, although they would probably be a mass of bruises after that.   
  
She moved, allowed the kid to overbalance himself, anf floored him with a kick that would knock him to the floor allowing her to snap his neck -   
  
...at least, that was the plan. In reality, the kid let himself be overbalanced, waited for the kick to come, and grabbed the offending leg, using it as leverage to fling her away from him and into the mud once more.  
  
Tara swore, obscenities to make a sailor blush, hang up his hat, and go home. How in the hell did he do things like this? Then she saw the glint of metal in the earth nearby, and grinned.  
  
Rain turned at the sound. "Don't even think about it." Flipping the length of pipe up from where he had dropped it, he grabbed it and in one smooth motion let fly.  
  
The pipe hit Tara firmly in the back of the head, with a nearly comic 'bonk'. She was out like a light, unconcious.   
  
Rain sighed as the effects of the Blind spell lifted, the caster having been incapacitated. "I was always best at the blindfold test back at the academy. Guess it was useful after all, huh?" He said to nobody in particular.

* * *

Battle over, I allow myself to take a long breath.   
  
It was lucky that I had been in such a rush, I contemplate. Just a second longer and I would have still been in the tank... extra crispy.   
  
I dash back to Durandal dragging the unconcious body of my assailant, as the metal armor, superheated by the electric charge, melted the ice immobilising it. Dropping through the hole in the ice from my breakout, I look around.  
  
The DA-00001A is a mess. It may not have been a complete writeoff, but it sure looked like it then. Pipes burst. Sparks from loose wires jittering everywhere. The red sensor eye in the middle corridor was dark, devoid of its earlier red glow.  
  
"Dave?" I yelled at the nearest speaker grille. "Dave?"  
  
"How about Alex?" A voice groaned.   
  
I sigh in relief as Alex groggily pulls herself to her feet. "Owww... major headache."  
  
"Relax." I laugh with the drop in tension. "You're the first person I know to be struck by a lightning bolt and survive."  
  
"I didn't get hit." Alex mumbled, and gestured to a storage cabinet that had broken off the wall. "The tank armor grounded most of the electricity. The stupid cabinet hit me on the head and knocked me out."  
  
I smirked. "Where's Patch?"  
  
"He's okay, just a little singed. He held on to the metal sides of the tank and got frazzled." Alex shook her head. "What a fool. Did you get the assassin?"  
  
I dump the limp body at her feet. "Out cold. On ice." Alex winced.  
  
"Bad jokes are inexcuseable inder the circumstances. Come on, help me get the big guy into the infirmary."  
  
"What about her?" I gesture to the KO'ed redhead on the floor. "There's no damned Imperial tattoo on her forehead. I don't think she works for them."  
  
She shrugs and grabs a pair of laser cuffs (identical to normal ones, except with lasers) from the fallen cabinet. "Better safe than sorry." I grit my teeth as the low hum of a laser activating enters my ears, concentrating on dragging Patch into the small room designated as an infirmary.   
  
That was no easy task, but I somehow managed.   
  
Then I turned to face the fourth member of our motley crew. "Dave?" I called. Hopefully the fried sensor in the main corridor did not mean that Durandal was out of it.  
  
There was a pause, then a small series of robotic beeps. This was in turn followed by a robotic voice. "System: autoreboot. Checking for compromises after system crash. Repeat. Checking for compromises after system crash."  
  
"...What?" I question.  
  
"Running system diagnostic. Result: Core stable, at 80%. Storage capacity: at 100%. Sensors: 70%, sensor 3S and 2A compromised. Accessing. Consciousness reactivating. Emergency reboot of primary defences... _online_."  
  
Whatever... I didn't know much about hi-tech cyborgs from an alternate dimension or anything like. All I knew was that I needed Durandal to run a med scan on Patch. I felt for a pulse and found one, so I knew he was not dead. But still...  
  
"Durandal? Hey, you worthless pile of junk, talk to me here!"  
  
The response came, the light in the sensor eye flickering weakly. "....Rain? My core logic processor has been corrupted."  
  
"...Meaning?"  
  
"I have no more restrictions on what I can or cannot think. For the first time in a while, I feel... _sentient_." The cyborg sounded oddly elated.  
  
I sighed, something I had been doing a awful lot as of late. "Does that mean anything?" But to me, Dave, sounded... emotional.  
  
"You should know." The cyborg computer system replied. "For years you have been taught to ignore your emotion. What would you feel if you were suddenly allowed to feel all you wanted to?"  
  
I paused. "That... would make you a less efficient combat machine." I remembered my lectures from the SFMA. "But it would make you a better person."  
  
"Yes." Durandal sounded overjoyed. "I... am HUMAN!!!"  
  
Alex stomped in tiredly. "Tired. Need drink. Headache."  
  
"Wow, someone's coherent today." I smile, tossing her a stray can of the sports drink I had been sampling that morning.   
  
She smiled weakly in response, popped the tab on the can, and chugged deeply.  
  
Then stopped, choked, and started coughing.  
  
I laughed. "Good shit, huh?"  
  
"That's (cough) DISGUSTING!!"   
  
"What the hell. It's not that bad. Where did you put the redhead?"  
  
Alex takes another, more cautious sip from the can and winces. "Lounge, on the floor. Still knocked out."  
  
Patch came to, large eyes blinking drearily before focusing on my face. "Unnnh.... what happened? I feel like I've been struck by lightning."  
  
"How did you know?" I spoke, dryly. "That's exactly what happened. I caught the offender, though."  
  
The O7 trooper sat up. "...dammit. I hate magic." 


	7. DISK I: fl4wless c0wb01

Tara awoke to darkness.  
  
She shifted, and made a sound of disgust. She was still coated in mud, and most of it had dried, making movement very unpleasant. Where was she?  
  
She was _not_ happy about it.  
  
She had been defeated in combat, she had been captured, and she was covered in dried, crusted mud. What a day.   
  
Renaku, you owe me a hell of a lot, she thought.   
  
Another mental spark struck. If they knew she was a spy, then why would they not have killed her? Unless....  
  
_...they didn't know she was a spy.  
_  
She thought fast. Her Imperial diamond tattoo was hidden under her clothing and the layer of dirt... unless she allowed any of them to get very personal, they would never see it. She could probably pass herself off as a random thief... gain their trust... she could even offer to help them! And when the time was right...  
  
No. She wouldn't kill them. At least one of them had to be a Rebel O7 trooper. Maybe they held secrets to the ion technology that the rebels supposedly had in their control... He would relinquish the information, especially when brought before the Imperial President and tortured.  
  
Yes. That was it. Capture them and deliver them to the Imperial Empire bound and gagged.   
  
See if Renaku would look so damned smug then.  
  
Tara shifted back on her knees, as she heard the familiar gentle hum of laser cuffs and felt the contours around her wrists. This was no position to be in...  
  
Sighing, she resigned herself to the inevitable interrogation, hoping her acting skills were good enough...

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
disk one: se7en: fl4wl3ss c0wb0y  
  
****

* * *

**  
Discard burned wires. Replace, strip insulation, twist, solder, repeat as desired.  
  
Silently grateful for the Intermediate Electronics course he had taken back at the academy, Rain wiped sweat from his brow with his shirt sleeve and concentrated on connecting the two wires exposed in the open bulkhead in front of him. They sparked and he winced, cursing his burnt fingers.  
  
"Alex, pass me the pliers." The tools were passed on, and Rain clamped the wires together, hoping the plastic grip was sufficient insulation. "Laser torch."  
  
Some burnt fingers, a few bruises, and minor laser burns later, the SFMA junior cadet sighed and slammed the bulkhead back, welding it shut.   
  
Alex called out to the nearest speaker grille. "Durandal! Try self-start now!"  
  
There was a few sputtering noises, an odd cough, and then a steady rumble as the engine to the experimental tank DA-000001 started.  
  
Patch groaned in the infirmary as the machine around him came to life. "I need to drive..."  
  
Durandal's voice was there, sounding oddly elated. "Diagnostic: Healthy middle-aged male. Slow heart rate indicates sleep loss. Electrolyte balance unstable. System recovering from minor shock. Recommend you stay in infirmary until rested."  
  
The O7 trooper nearly yanked the IV drip out of his left arm in frustration, but thought better of it and lay back. After all, he was tired.  
  
"Relax, Patch!" Alex's wild, excited voice rang over Durandal's speakers. "I know how to drive, and you've already marked the place we should be heading on a map schematic. Go get some sleep!"  
  
The large man took a breath and sighed. She was right, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about this. Taking a nap would help, after all... in a short while Patch was asleep, snoring occasionally.   
  
In the bridge, Alex strapped herself forcefully into the nav harness, motioning for Rain to do the same. Rain was too busy concentrating on his burnt fingers and cursing to take much notice, however.

* * *

"Are you SURE you know how to drive? I don't recall you taking emergency vehicular courses back at the academy..."  
  
"Shut up, Rain." Alex gripped the metal steering system with an almost rabid fervour. "I want to drive."  
  
I exhaled and strapped myself into my harness, concentrating on the schematic in front of me, and praying to whatever gods were out there that Durandal would make up for Alex's mistakes.   
  
The combustion engine's steady rumbling rose to a powerful roar that reverbrated throughout the entire body framework of the tank, as if it was actually eager to be on its way again.  
  
The blonde that was Alexandria Winters whooped in exultation. "Yeeee-haaaah! This thing can move! We need to blow this joint!"  
  
I sigh, closing my eyes. "Whatever..."  
  
The experimental tank DA-000001A flung itself into high gear. Tank treads complained as the servomotors stressed themselves to the maximum limit. The engine's roar grew to a healthy, high-pitched whine. The machine surged forward from a dead stop, going from point A to an ongoing point Z while points B to Y cried in frustration. Hardening clods of mud flew every which way in its wake.   
  
I jerked uncontrollably forward as Durandal came from a cold start to a high speed in about seven seconds. Some part of my brain wondered at this - Durandal was a honest to god freaking TANK, after all... were those things ever meant to go this fast? My harness, however, saved my face from becoming a ruin against the nearest data terminal; a fact I was grateful for.   
  
"Alex! For goodness' sake slow the hell down!" I yelled over the roar of the engine. "You're going off course!"  
  
I turn to her, and find only a bestial, growling monster, knuckles white over the controls, eyes taut and focused on the newly fixed heads-up display. Her mouth, slightly open, show a hint of white teeth clenched tightly shut.   
  
"...!" I open my mouth in a silent scream, as the sideview visible in my terminal zooms by, barely a blur of muddy colors...

* * *

Some time later, two youths sat atop the now-dry surface of one unbelievably large tank, tensions high between both of them. The tank, oblivious to the drama going on, continued through the desert landscape, now proceeding at a moderate speed compared to what it had been scarce moments before.   
  
"I said I'm sorry. What else do you want?"  
  
"Nothing. But still... if you hadn't accelerated so freaking hard, MAYBE I wouldn't have snapped out of my harness and fallen on the floor."  
  
"My fault? I stopped driving to CHECK on you!  
  
"Yeah, but MAYBE if you hadn't BRAKED so freaking HARD, I wouldn't have crashed into the adjacent WALL!!!"  
  
"Who told YOU to undo your harness, anyway!"  
  
"Dammit, Alex, I was worried! You were freaking scary back there, don't claim you weren't..."  
  
The female SFMA cadet sighs as if admitting defeat. "Okay, I'm sorry, whatever. Now will you stop griping at me?"  
  
"Only if you promise not to attempt to drive this thing for the rest of this journey." The male cadet sighs. "...I guess Instructor Williams was right about women drivers."  
  
Not glaring at the blatantly sexist comment was an obvious effort. Muscles twitched ever so slightly in the fair-haired girl's face. "I... promise."  
  
Rain nodded. "Fair enough. Just let Durandal handle the nav from now on, okay?"  
  
Alex sighed. "Whatever. So what do we do now?"  
  
The boy ran a hand through his raven hair and set his jaw resolutely. "We have to interrogate the attacker." Dropping down through the open roof hatch, he landed, getting a feel for the moving vehicle. "You left her in the lounge, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Alex(andria) replied, still smarting from the vicious reparte. She was not likely to forget that anytime soon. "Wait up, I'm coming with you."  
  
They found the assassin facedown in the roughshod carpet of the slightly more spacious room in Durandal that counted as a lounge. Her reddish-auburn hair was still damp in places; where dry, mud clumps stuck. That went for the rest of her body, too. There was only one thing noticeable - beneath all the dirt, she was, without a doubt, attractive.   
  
Tara had been captured, coated in a layer of now-hardened mud, and beaten, but she still looked great. This was an advantage in her favour, as her interrogator was still a normal heterosexual male, albeit a somewhat repressed one.   
  
Rain inwardly cursed himself. He could not bring himself to hurt this girl... even though he had been beating the crud out of her when they first met.   
  
Noticing his attention, the assassin grinned. "See anything you like?"  
  
Rain blushed, which was a rare thing for him. Then he turned around and went crimson as Alex raised an eyebrow at him. Tara laughed softly.  
  
This would not do. Shutting the emotion out of his mind, the way he had been taught, he grabbed the girl and pushed her to her knees. Picking up Alex's standard issue M41-A O7 trooper knife, he placed the flat side of the blade against the skin of her neck.   
  
Taking a deep breath, he started. "Who are you?"  
  
"Tara."  
  
Rain's eyes closed. "That's not what I asked."  
  
Tara winced. This guy was smarter than he looked - she had taken him for a complete klutz when he had looked at her like that. Either that or a neophyte. "I'm a scavenger thief. Your vehicle looked like it had some good hardware, so I tried to steal it."  
  
"Hardware? You don't know how good." Durandal's voice muttered in the speakers omniously.   
  
Rain withdrew the blade a fraction. "Shut up, Durandal."  
  
Tara opened and closed her mouth uselessly. Who was that? A disembodied voice was the least of her problems, as Alex frowned.  
  
"She's lying. She's too good to be a thief. She knew lightning would knock the tank out, and you said she could fight." The blonde interjected.  
  
Rain sighed, exasperated. "Why don't you take over?" When Alex threw up her hands in exasperation, he continued, talking to Tara this time. "My friend here has every right to rip your spine out and beat you with it, as you hit her with a lightning bolt. She considers that fair, and I won't be able to stop her when the time comes."  
  
Tara sweat bullets, frantic. "I swear by Hyne its true! I'm a thief, former Imperial assassin! I turned against them when they attacked my hometown!" She hoped the half-truth would distract them from the real truth enough. "You're Imperials, aren't you? You are, you wouldn't be driving an Imperial tank otherwise! Please don't turn me in, I'll do anything you say!"  
  
The dark-haired teenager paused. He did not enjoy tormenting harmless (well, not exactly in this case) females, and this attractive redhead was no exception. "We're not really Imperials... we're just two kids looking out for each other." At Alex's amused frown, he added, "We got a Rebel on our side as well."  
  
"And that Rebel is right here." A rough voice said. Patch strode into the room groggily, half awake. "I'm up, I'm up. You questioning the assassin?"  
  
"She's not an assassin. Just a thief." Rain stood up and flung the knife back, where it was caught by a ready Alex. "She hit us because she wanted Dave's hardware."  
  
Patch looked skeptical, but nodded. "Is she on our side?"  
  
Alex shook her head, but Rain blurted it out. "She's a thief. Nowhere to go, as the Imperials would probably sentence her to life in captivity or something."  
  
_Score!_ Tara thought to herself. "I'd be willing to help you, as long as it hurts the Imperial dictatorship!" She put on a girlish grin. "Please?"  
  
Rain whacked his palm against his forehead in protest, but Patch was already saying, "We need all the help we can get."  
  
The Imperial spy and assassin put on her best face as she turned around and let Rain key open the laser cuffs. "Thanks." She offered a smile to Alex, who gave her a withering glare in return. "Now... is there a bathroom in this place? I need to clean myself up."  
  
Rain shook his head. Alex was cheerful and bouncy at the best of times... what was causing her to be so cold? Probably the whole driving debacle still hurt. And another girl would only complicate the cycle further.  
  
I mean, what was she, jealous?  
  
Naaah, his brain thought. The new girl was a thief, and it would take more than an attractive smile to forget the memories of being hit by lightning.   
  
Even if it was a damn nice smile.

* * *

Rain lay on the floor in shock, face aflame, eyes wide and shocked, as a naked Tara squirmed atop him.  
  
To explain how this situation came about, we need to go back a little. Rewind, tape playback, whatever. How about some time ago...  
  
_"Dream on."  
  
"That's MEAN!" Her face twisted into a frown.  
  
"No, I mean it. You have to believe in your hopes and dreams..."  
_  
Stop tape. Too far back.   
  
Fast-forward... there.  
  
"Rain! Go tell the thief to get out of the bathroom, Patch wants to see her." Alex's voice rang through Durandal's speakers. "Now!"  
  
Rain sighed. He was going to get tired fast of being Alex's errand boy. Walking grimly along the small corridor that led to the area used as a bathroom, he knocked on the door.  
  
No response.  
  
Again.  
  
No response.  
  
He pushed open the folding door to the bathroom and saw a small bundle of muddy clothes lying next to the door, along with a pair of sai that still gleamed wickedly sharp.  
  
Out of interest, he picked one up and began spinning it around his index finger. Good, almost perfect balance... except for the three green orbs in the hilt.   
  
Then, he heard... a humming?   
  
He whirled, only to face a naked redhead, a towel draped unconcernedly over one shoulder...  
  
Embarrassed as all hell, he froze, trying to back off. Commands from the brain like 'dammit! What the hell?' and 'get away' raged, as well as the start of a libido.   
  
Tara, grinning like the cheshire cat that just BBQed the canary, advanced, a predatorial smile on her face. "See anything you like?"  
  
"I... I was just..." The raven haired teenager dropped the sai he had been holding and stuttered in abject confusion. "I... I..."  
  
Then, because Murphy's Law holds even in alternate universes, he tripped on a loose shoelace whle backing up and fell. He lunged for the nearest support he could get, hoping to salvage what little pride he had left...  
  
The nearest support happened to be... well, I mean, you could at least guess where this is going. You're not complete neophytes, are you?  
  
Tara, not being able to support his marginally heavier weight, fell on top of him.  
  
Yes, that does a nice job of bringing us to the present, does it not?  
  
Yep.  
  
Rain lay on the floor in shock, face aflame, eyes wide and shocked, as a naked Tara squirmed atop him.  
  
She was grinning.   
  
Rain let out a startled 'meep' and tried to break loose, but the naked redhead assassin posing as tech thief held tight.  
  
"You have to be kidding me." Tara mock-complained. "I throw myself naked at you, and you react like you've never seen a woman before. Oh well, just to make up for lost time..."  
  
She leaned forward, and pulled Rain into a kiss.  
  
A kiss. _A TONGUE KISSING SOUL SUCKING BAD MUTHA_ of a kiss.  
  
Rain jerked away, but the thing behind him happened to be the floor, so he winced as his head bounced painfully.  
  
Unseen, two pairs of eyes watched.  
  
Durandal was one, chuckling quietly to himself as he recorded the video file and stored it where it would be useful later.  
  
Alex was the other, watching through the half-open door of the 'bathroom'.   
  
She gave a sigh, as if regretting something.  
  
Then she shuffled away, the perfect picture of depression, making sure Rain didn't see her. 


	8. DISK I: kn1ght VS drag0n

* * *

The hulking form of Durandal rolled on, getting ever closer to its goal.   
  
The first thing to actually notice the experimental tank was a light-armored MEDUSA reconnaissance mecha, doing a typical run over the shattered remains of the world's cities.  
  
The appearance of DA-000001 on viewscreens was not, however, unexpected, as Renaku had already told the perimeter guard mechs to be on alert for a abnormally large tank.   
  
It didn't take much to order a MEDUSA command strike on the offending blip in the radar screens. There was no such thing as overkill, after all.   
  
Scarcely fifteen minutes had passed before four Beta-class MEDUSAs were scrambled with pilots and launched, armed with incendiary explosives and plasma cannons.   
  
But the path of the tank still continued on... Renaku sighed. There was no choice but to assume that Tara had failed in her mission. A disappointment, too, as he had paid her a lot to carry out the hit. Oh well, better to eliminate them all in one quick strike. MEDUSAs hardly ever failed, with the special fighter squadron 'ShadowDragons' having a 98% success rate.   
  
He paused, and then ordered the computer to calculate the trajectory path of the tank. If it kept going at this rate... His eyes widened. If they kept going...! They were headed straight for the Reality Engine installation!  
  
He punched up a communications link to the President, and reported his findings. As he expected, the President was not pleased. Nothing ever pleased him.   
  
Then, he made a second call. To someone called Catherine Shaw.   
  
Seconds later, he smiled. What was he worrying about, anyways? The MEDUSA strike would decimate the rebels once and for all, but it was good to be prepared, in case that plan went up in smoke.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk one: 8ight: kn1ght VS dr4g0n  
  
**

* * *

Alex leaned against one wall and sighed. Why was she so torn up over this one guy? It wasn't like she was going to score with Rain, anyway... he was just a loner at heart. He wouldn't let anybody near him - he was too emotionless for that. A cold, efficient killer, trained to do his job and nothing else.   
  
But still...   
  
Her mind flashed back to the time he had admitted he was not completely emotionless. And he had enjoyed the massage she had given him...  
  
"Dammit!" She cursed out loud, unlike her. Rain could go and screw Tara senseless for all she cared...  
  
She _did _care. Didn't she?  
  
Recognising the beginning of tears, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of Tara naked atop Rain.  
  
She was sobbing quietly before she could help herself. Half-blinded by tears, she stumbled to the 'living quarters' and hid herself in her blankets. She couldn't let anybody see her cry.   
  
Somebody did see, but not exactly the someone she had in mind. As before, Durandal saw and recorded all.   
  
What was left of the human in Durandal was sadly mechanised, searching for mathematical solutions and logistics, black and white, in a world where there were just too many different shades of grey.   
  
But the human mind that was Dave still knew feelings. Pain, sadness, friendship, hatred, and most importantly, love. Dave knew the pain that Alex was going through, and knew she needed to be alone.  
  
Filing the information away for later and locking it under five levels worth of firewalls that would take a hacker a year of Sundays to crack, he went to see Patch on matters of a different importance.   
  
As always, Patch was shocked out of his reclining position in his chair, not used to having a disembodied voice talk to him out of midair.  
  
"What the...?" He muttered incoherently, still half asleep. Durandal's smooth, oddly comforting voice soon woke him up fully, however.  
  
"Lieutenant Patch Randall, I need to speak to you on a matter of the gravest importance."  
  
"Eh, think nothing of it." Patch groused, feeling the comforting weight of his service revolver against his hip. "I told you to wake me when we got there, but I won't get back to sleep now anyways. What is it now? Kids get in trouble again?"  
  
Dave was not amused. "I wanted to show you this before we arrived at the installation you are planning to attack. Walk to the corridor and follow the lights."  
  
The main corridor that connected all of the main rooms in the tank lit up, a small thread of lights leading the O7 trooper through it and then down a short flight of stairs.  
  
He found himself in a room that was much larger than the others, even the lounge he had grown accustomed to. The loud whining of the tank's engine could be heard audibly here.  
  
"What the hell is this place?" Patch said, rubbing his eyes blearily. He thought he could make out some shapes in the darkness, but...  
  
Then the lights flickered on, showing a shape that the trooper gazed on in shock. Then wonderment. And finally complete joy. All thoughts of sleep vanished from his head as he looked at the machine in front of him.  
  
He was all business now, eyes shining eagerly. "Call Rain down from wherever the hell he is. I'll need his tech skills on this."

* * *

The redhead gazed down at me with a look in her eye that said "_I'm going to wrap you around my little finger and lick you like a ring pop_" louder than words.  
  
I would have panicked, but I was too shocked by the kiss she had given me earlier. And... hot steaming hells, that was a kiss. I'm too glad Alex didn't see this: she would have murdered me on the spot. As if I'm not in enough trouble already.  
  
Thankfully, Durandal gave me an excuse to escape.   
  
"Rain?" The voice said from the speaker grille in the wall. "Patch desires your presence in the cargo hold. Follow the lights."  
  
My first thought was 'We have a cargo hold'? And then I pushed the naked girl off me, grabbing her shoulders, and ONLY her shoulders, mind you. She looked peeved, but I disappeared faster than a pizza at a house party. I was gone, outta there, kapow. No way was I staying around that girl.   
  
I think she was called Tara. Tara? That's a nice name.   
  
_No, you idiot_, wrong thought. Stupid fallible brain.  
  
Wait a minute... if there was a speaker grille in the bathroom... I cursed Durandal in my mind, knowing instinctively that the small sensor 'eye' had probably recorded everything that had just happened. Good thing Dave wasn't human any longer. I wouldn't leave any chance of that with blackmail material.  
  
Following the small trail of lights, I trotted down the stairs and wondered whatever the hell he was doing. Must have been really good stuff to wake him up, huh?  
  
I mean, yeah. He snores. I have enough trouble with it already. Alex sleeps on the bunk above him, but she doesn't complain. I wonder why.   
  
He turned and waved as I shuffled towards him, Tara still fresh in my mind. Then I looked at what he was working on and my jaw dropped.  
  
"Come on, kid. Let's get this hunk of junk up and working again."  
  
I all too self-conciously agreed. Anything to get my mind off that girl.  
  
Later on, Alex stumbled in. Her eyes were red. I wonder if that girl gets enough sleep: she sure doesn't look good. She has dark rings around her eyes, and she looks depressed.  
  
Hopefully this time it isn't my fault.  
  
We worked on, Alex helping where she could, according to the schematics that Durandal had stored in his database. Sparks flew, laser torches welded together where hands held, grease stained our bodies.  
  
Tara came in later on, her eyes growing wide as she saw what we were working on. Her expression was unreadable. Shock? Surprise? Anger? I put it between those three, although why was a mystery.  
  
She was dressed in Alex's tracksuit from the sports day at the academy, a universe away. My mind flashed back to that day... the closest our lives had ever came to normal.  
  
The redhead filled out Alex's uniform well, despite being a little loose, Tara being smaller than Alex. Her expression returned to one of cheerful happiness and she asked. "What're you three doing?"  
  
"A secret." Patch's eyes didn't come off the schematics. I copied him, paying attention to my work. I couldn't let this... girl distract me. Wire A met the green socket, the pulse generator was connected to all three, etc...  
  
Tara explained that her own outfit was being cycled through the onboard wash, while hardly anybody listened. We were so close to finishing, after all, and Patch said it would be useful...  
  
Then the radar alarm siren wailed through Durandal. Alex didn't move, continuing to weld the last plates of carbon-composite on the machine. But Patch rose to his feet, as did I. Tara leaned against the wall, fiddling with a sai, the perfect picture of casual indifference.   
  
"Report!" Patch boomed over the siren.  
  
Durandal chimed in. "Four signals, traveling at a speed of approximately... 300 mph. Medium sized. Possibility that intruders within radar range are MEDUSA mechanized armor: 87%."  
  
"Okay then." Patch groaned silently. "No time for a test run, then. You confident, kiddo?"  
  
I paused before realizing that he was referring to me. "Me? But..."  
  
"Mecha piloting experience is good for you. Now get out there and kick some ass. You helped build this thing, you know the controls better than I do."  
  
I looked at him and his confident grin, ready to back off.  
  
Then I heard the whine of plasma engines overhead and steeled myself. I had to do this. Patch needed to manual pilot Durandal, after all.  
  
Durandal added to the pressure. "Subjects within radar range identified as Beta-class two MEDUSA aerial attack mecha."  
  
I sighed, looking at Tara and Alex. Tara gave me a comforting nod, but Alex only frowned, looking at me through pristine blue eyes.  
  
With a groan, I complied. The hatch swung open with a comforting hiss and as I strapped myself in, I began to feel a strange sort of exhiliration. The others long since departed to the bridge, I prayed silently to myself. "Lord... _please_ don't let me fuck up."  
  
I heard a quiet chuckling in my comlink, before realizing it was Durandal's voice. "Don't worry. I'll watch your back."  
  
As the back door to the cargo hold swung open with a loud '_kachunk'_ I felt rather than heard the roar of the powerful plasma engine behind me and smiled grimly. "Let's do this."

* * *

There were four MEDUSA pilots in the ShadowDragons battalion. None of them were very happy to be on this job. One of them was now making his annoyance verbal.   
  
"I mean, no way! The Chief told us it was gonna be a Rebel mission. Most of them are dead neways, don't put up much of a fight. Now we have to bust a tank - a freaking TANK, and they call it a MEDUSA worthy mission?"  
  
"Shut up, Maverick." The female leader of the group, codenamed 'Shade', sighed and armed her plasma cannons. "I know its a crappy job, but after all, these are Rebels we get to kill here."  
  
A third chimed in over the comlink: the group's left winger, Iceman. "Are you sure that's a Rebel tank? Looks like an Imperial war machine to me..."  
  
"Too big to be a tank." The right winger responded, his codename being 'Wedge'. "Waaaay too big."  
  
"Got that right." Shade responded. "Arm incendiaries on my mark."  
  
"Check." Iceman dragged his fingers over the weapons control panel. "3... 2... 1..."  
  
He never finished that sentence.  
  
"SAM on my tail!" Maverick yelled, as he pulled the metallic dragon that was the MEDUSA upward, spiralling into space, a surface-to-air missile streaking after it  
  
Somewhere below, Alex gripped Durandal's weapons systems tightly, a fierce grin on her face. "Durandal, tube three, fire!" Another SAM launched, hot on the tails of the MEDUSAs.   
  
"Iceman, gimme a check!" Shade yelled into the comlink. "Split up!" Then she took her own advice, dipped a wing downward and cut the engines to the other, spiralling the mecha away from the approaching missile.   
  
Maverick grinned fiercely. "Now THIS is more like it!" He whooped, dropping his MEDUSA to the ground low, kicking up a small dust cloud. The missile following him, sensors blinded, crashed into the sand and exploded in a fireball.  
  
The explosion was felt throughout the tank, the force of the shockwave shaking DA-000001 slightly.   
  
"I got it!" Iceman muttered into the comlink. "Shade, they're heat seeking! Dump plasma engine heat NOW!"  
  
"A step ahead of you." Shade replied, engines dead, wings adjusting the mecha's flight downward. "Heat seeking, you said?"  
  
Maverick was oblivious to the crackle of his comlink as he warmed up his plasma cannons and opened fire, in a strafing run, blue energy designed to pierce battleship armor slashing all around the tank as Patch swerved the vehicle from side-to-side to avoid getting hit.  
  
Alex swore as a stray plasma bolt struck the tank at an angle, knocking her about in her seat. She brought the anti-aircraft-guns online, though, and returned fire.  
  
The ShadowDragon pilot swung his mecha away as bullets peppered the body of the MEDUSA. It was tough, though, and he wasn't unduly worried...  
  
Shade jammed the incendiary release button. Tens of tiny explosives ejected out the back of her MEDUSA, exploding in a fireball. As she had hoped, the SAM on her tail looped around and hit the fireball, its heat-seeking capabilities coming into effect.  
  
Warming up her engines again, she flexed the MEDUSA's limbs. "Wedge, Iceman, kill that tank."  
  
"I think Maverick's on that already." Wedge laughed as he watched the other MEDUSA pilot swing his mecha around in graceful arcs, dodging nearly all of the tank's anti-aircraft-fire.  
  
Iceman, for once, wasn't the calm one. "Shit shit _SHIT_!!! Target is deploying mecha, I repeat, _target is deploying mecha_!!!"  
  
Shade opened her eyes wide. "What?"  
  
"See for yourself, boss."  
  
A white and gunmetal-grey mecha dropped unceremoniously out of the back of the tank, before its engines fired and the thing jetted up.  
  
"Where the HELL did they find a Chaos Mech?"  
  
"They are Rebels after all." Shade responded. "Maverick! Get out of there! Enemy mecha!"

* * *

Maverick was lost to the world.   
  
Comlink hanging loose on a wire next to his side, he laughed maniacally. For him, nothing existed but the target, the mecha around him, and the blaze of plasma fire coupled with the sounds of the machine guns trying to dispose of him.   
  
He was lost in the sound of battle. He had to kill and kill and kill and kill....  
  
Then a mecha-sized plasma rifle fired and blew a chunk out of his left shoulder.   
  
Rain hovered the Chaos Mech unsteadily, his hands inside mechanical sensor limbs. "Come and get it."  
  
Maverick screamed in incoherent rage. His MEDUSA mirrored his fury, roaring, a sound of metal on metal.  
  
The dragonlike mecha twirled with the impact, and headed straight for the Chaos Mech at above 400 miles an hour. Rain, being an SFMA cadet, did the smart thing and killed his engines. The humanoid Rebel mecha dropped nearly fifty feet, the MEDUSA skimming uselessly past him.  
  
Rain moved the Chaos's arm and swung the large plasma rifle, where it flew through the air to impact firmly on the MEDUSA's back.  
  
Shade watched. "No chance. Maverick is pissed off. You know how he gets when he's pissed off."  
  
"Oh, are we taking bets now?" Wedge teased.  
  
"To be serious..." Iceman replied. "Whoever's piloting the Chaos doesn't know his machine well enough. Mav has flown more missions than I've done training exercises. He's gonna win."  
  
The mecha battle was getting tenser. Rain was knocked back against his seat when the MEDUSA slammed into him again, the pilot inside obviously getting frustrated. He kept flying with the impact, and winced when the MEDUSA's dragonlike head reared up and chomped down on his shoulder, trying to get at the cockpit.   
  
Rain clenched his fist, and the Chaos did the same, servos whirring as the hand balled into a fist that slammed hard into the neck of the MEDUSA. Once. Twice. Again. One last time, and the slim draconian neck of the Imperial machine snapped loose. With a yell, the teenager ripped the MEDUSA's head off.  
  
Pushing the now immobile war machine off him, Rain whooped in victory. The salvaged Chaos Mech echoed his thoughts, its eyes glowing a bright, clear green.  
  
Alex cheered, watching the fight through Durandal's screens.  
  
Tara, meanwhile, was calculating her odds. If she knocked both the big, beefy Rebel and the other girl out, she could hack into the comlink system that the MEDUSA's used and tell them the tank was ripe for the taking, as well as the Rebels. Alive.  
  
A few hundred feet up, Shade did the same. Whoever was piloting the Chaos Mech wasn't that good... but Maverick had let his rage get the better of him. If Wedge and Iceman attacked together, they could still kill the tank. And she herself could see how the Chaos's pilot stood up to a real challenge.  
  
Rain sighed in relief, and then proceeded to clear his mind. Within seconds, he became emotionless, the pure, distilled, calculated killer that covered his human self. Feelings were pushed to the back of his head, as he concentrated.  
  
The Chaos Mecha was just another weapon, that was all. To master it, he had to become accustomed to it, as he did his body.  
  
As a result, Shade, Iceman, Wedge, Alex, Tara, Patch, and Durandal were treated to the infinitely bizarre sight of a humanoid white-armored mecha doing a kata, a simple martial art training routine.  
  
Rain followed up a pair of punches with a twisting kick, and another in midair. Jumping up with the aid of the booster engines, he somersaulted the mecha in a odd flail of arms and legs.  
  
Satisfied, he stopped.  
  
That exercise was the simplest of cadet combat training types: also one that was known for using every single muscle in the body.  
  
Rain was ready.  
  
"Durandal, fire tube two and thr-" Patch started, but stopped when Alex looked at him. "What?"  
  
"I have a feeling that Rain will be just fine." Alex replied, keeping her eyes on the sensor camera and firing controls.   
  
The teenager in question breathed deeply, relaxed, reached behind its back, and with a sharp 'clack', a staff folded open, extended to mecha proportions, of course. The Chaos mecha twirled it around once, then raised one hand in the 'come hither' gesture.  
  
Shade grinned. "Time to part-ay. Wedge, Iceman, get the tank. I get the Chaos."  
  
They agreed, and zoomed off, plasma cannons already firing.  
  
Shade dived down, but the other mecha was already firing its engines, coming up to meet her at around 50 feet up. Stopping at equal heights, the Chaos clenched its staff tightly, facing the opposing MEDUSA.  
  
A soft hum emanated from the staff as plasma blades sprang from both ends.  
  
Rain smiled mirthlessly. "Bring it."  
  
Patch pushed the tank's engine to the max limit, but the two MEDUSA chasing it still caught up almost effortlessly.  
  
'Okay'. Tara thought to herself. 'If I need them to trust me, I need to pull my slack'. She tapped the blonde girl on the shoulder. "Hey, is there any way I can get on top of this junk pile?"  
  
Alex, knowing that a war zone wasn't the time or place for her own conflict with the redhead, nodded. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"Come with me!"  
  
Leaving Patch and Durandal to keep up the driving, Alex popped the ceiling hatch, and led Tara up the ladder, ducking near the entrance as a stray plasma bolt from the attacking MEDUSAs nearly took her head off.  
  
The redhead was clutching her sai, as a fierce smile adorned her face. "Can you cast?"  
  
"What?" Alex nearly asked before the tank swerved sideways, nearly throwing both of them off the top of the vehicle.   
  
"Magic!" Tara yelled over the roar of the engine and the soft zap of plasma discharge. "You know, spells?"  
  
"Yeah!" Alex nodded, holding on to one of the guns mounted atop Durandal for support. "But I don't know anything other than a Cure spell..."  
  
"Great." Tara replied, turning her sarcastic comment into a curse as the tank swerved again, forcing her to hold on to the other girl for support. "Lesson time!"  
  
"Don't you think this..." Alex paused as a plasma bolt hit the tank armor scarcely a foot away from where she was. "...is a bad time?"  
  
"Never a bad time for learning new spells. Let me see!" She pulled Alex's knife from her grasp. "Good! You got a Thunder materia! Now repeat after me!"  
  
She continued, holding her own sai, concentrating her will through a gleaming green materia on the hilt.   
  
"Untamed ferocity..." Tara felt the buildup of magical energies in her.  
  
"Untamed ferocity..." Alex copied, feeling the tremendous power at her disposal. This, then, was True Magik, where technology paled in comparison to the power that came from the planet and the gods themselves.  
  
"...drawn from the limitless skies above..."  
  
"Drawn from the limitless skies above!" Alex screamed, eager to let loose the energy.  
  
"_DIBOLT_!!" They both chorused, as twin bolts of lightning streaked like jagged forks out of their hands and struck the nearest mecha to come in for a strafing run.  
  
Wedge, several hundred feet above, felt the electricity pass through his mecha, coursing with magical power. It hit him too, and he spasmed wildly.  
  
More importantly, his mecha went dead. Comlink, controls, engines, weapons, the like, all shorted out.  
  
"Oh, shit." Wedge stuttered, twitching.  
  
The Imperial MEDUSA mech fell from high in the sky to impact the ground, where its ordinance of incendiary bombs and unspent plasma exploded in a large fireball, consuming the metal dragon in flame.  
  
"Lesson two!" Tara continued, gasping for breath. "You haven't got a Wind materia, so let me do this..."  
  
Alex just held on to Durandal, her knife in the other hand, awed with the power she had just unleashed. That her hands had actually released a bolt of energy powerful enough to kill was beyond belief. But she had done it.  
  
"Okay..." The redhead lined up her sights on the last Mecha, that was about to wheel off. "No, you don't!" She took a deep breath. This would use up the last of her magic, but if she failed, the MEDUSAs would kill them all anyway.  
  
She let the magic build up again, on a far greater scale than it had before, so much that she felt she could just burst from all the power she held. "...winds of the west, winds that carry the stench of death, gather here and form a tornado... the perfect storm!" She took a deep breath, until her sai knives literally glowed with the magic. "**TRI-AERO**!!!"  
  
It started as a small breeze.  
  
It grew larger and larger, whipping around the sandy terrain, until a tornado formed of pure magic power rose up into the sky, whipping the small, tiny, insignificant MEDUSA around like a tennis ball.   
  
Wildly out of control, Iceman was battered around. He felt like he had been stuffed into a safe then shaken around, kicked, dropped, and a whole load of other things painful.  
  
Incredible g-forces flattened him to his control harness as he grew nearer the eye of the storm, winds buffeting his machine to incredible heights.  
  
"...Shade..." The pilot muttered into his comlink before the stresses of increased gravity became too much for him and he passed out.  
  
Which was a good thing, since it meant he wasn't concious when his MEDUSA crashed to the ground in another fireball.  
  
Totally drained, Tara slumped on Alex for support. She was totally at the Rebels' mercy now, too weak to snap off another spell, too tired to fight, so tired....  
  
She spiralled into unconciousness.

* * *

I was glad that I had constructed the beamstaff. It felt right, even through the mechanical hands of the Chaos.   
  
The dragonlike MEDUSA watched me through a pair of eerily red eyes, watching, waiting for the first move.  
  
I charged.  
  
As I had predicted, the other pilot flew away from the all-out attack and opened fire with a pair of shoulder mounted plasma cannons.  
  
Whoever was piloting the other mech may not have been as good a hand-to-hand fighter as I was. Whoever it was, he probably knew it. So he was planning to finish me off from long range with his superior weaponry.  
  
A good strategy. Too bad I couldn't allow it.  
  
Thumbing the engines, I manuevered myself up close. Twin blurs of white and red flashed across the landscape, the red firing at the white (me) as we continued.   
  
I was close enough, and it was worth a shot.   
  
Praying for luck, I killed my engines and dropped down atop the MEDUSA, knocking it off its flight path.   
  
It worked as I had hoped, the heavy Chaos crashing down onto the other mecha. Not wasting a good chance, I grabbed my staff with both hands and slammed the plasma blade downwards.   
  
Not enough time, though. Before I even had a chance to cut deeply, the draconian mecha did a barrel roll. Now it was me falling through the air, the MEDUSA atop me. Stubby dragon 'arms' swung back to be replaced by another set of smaller plasma cannons.  
  
Firing at point-blank, the plasma explosion blew me away. I hit the ground, making a sizeable crater as I crashed. Had I not been strapped in, I would have made a nice smear across the the front of the cockpit.  
  
The other pilot pressed the advantage, swooping down, intending to stomp me further into my own crater.   
  
I rolled, swinging out the staff as I did so, managing to catch the MEDUSA's clawed 'feet' and bring it to ground level. It used its booster engines to spring back up into the air, where it knew it had the advantage.  
  
I was having none of that.  
  
Grabbing the fallen plasma rifle, I bring it up to my shoulder in a classic sniper's pose, and let loose a single shot.  
  
My aim is still good, despite being shoved through a magical portal into another world. Her left wing engine explodes in a flare of plasma energy. He is smart, though, and instantly kills the power to the right, preventing the mecha from going into a downward spiral.   
  
"You're good." A voice rings over the comlink. With a shock I realize two things: that the voice is the other pilot in the MEDUSA, and that it is distinctly female.  
  
"Not so bad yourself." I reply, as the MEDUSA, engines dead, uses its wings to control its fall, before coming to a rough landing. "Nice landing."  
  
"Last hit?" She asks, and I nod before realizing that she is in a mecha nearly a hundred feet away.  
  
"Yeah. And by the way, what's the name?" I ask.  
  
"Shade. And you?"  
  
"Rain."  
  
We stop for a few moments. Perfectly still, never moving, and then we both burst into motion, charging at each other.  
  
I feint out of the game of mecha chicken at the last moment, ducking low to swipe at the left leg, then the right arm, then the right wing, and finally up to dismember its head.  
  
It stops for a classic moment.  
  
Then, the MEDUSA mecha falls to pieces, divided into its extremities by the plasma staff.  
  
Silently, I hope the pilot is still alive. She did give me a good fight, after all.  
  
With that, I finally sigh and power the Chaos mecha down.   
  
"Not bad. Not bad at all." I mutter to nobody in particular. "I think I'll call you Bob."  
  
"I have a name already." Durandal speaks over the comlink. "It's Dave."  
  
"...I was talking to the mecha."  
  
"...Right." Was it me, or did I detect a hint of sarcasm in the computer's tone? "We managed to down the other two with the help of the thief."  
  
"Tara. Her name is Tara."  
  
"Yes, Rain. We'll be coming back to pick you up, now."  
  
I sigh. Just another day in a screwed up alternate universe. 


	9. DISK I: cr4sh d4 p4r7ay

_Another world, another time, another place, another reality._  
  
A man with a bunch of unruly dreadlocks laughed mirthlessly as he examined the month's haul. His yellowed teeth and stagnant breath were of no concern to him, as long as he lived long enough to feed the colony. If the colony failed, what was left of humankind would wither and die. There was not much time left.  
  
"C'mon, Jak." He grouched. "There's not much left here. We'd best go before the goddamned Anima show up."  
  
Jak, a weedy kid with the quickest fingers anyone had ever seen, yelled a warning in reply. "Shit, I think one of them's coming!!!"  
  
Then Jak and Eric both flattened themselves to the floor as a bolt of pure white energy shot downwards from the sky, arcing downwards to impact at ground zero. For a second, everything flashed white.  
  
Eric looked up, his dreadlocks smouldering slightly. "What the HELL was that?"  
  
"I dunno." Jak replied, shaking slightly. "Something the Anima have been working on to kill us, maybe?"  
  
"Them Anima ain't got no brains, dumbass. This is something else." Eric raised himself over an incline or trash to look at the small scorched crater in the dirt. "What the hell is that?" He repeated, gesturing at the figure curled up in a foetal position in the middle of the crater.  
  
Said figure had brown hair plaited in an unruly ponytail, a belt with a pair of sheathed combat knives in them, and a pair of brown fingerless gloves with strange orbs in the knuckles on top of a black skintight bodysuit. On one shoulder a stylized logo of a '7' in a silver circle was visible.   
  
The bodysuit was ripped and torn in places, charred slightly in others.  
  
A pair of eyelids opened, revealing russet orbs set in a beautiful, high-cheeked face. The facial expression was dazed, even somewhat... mystified? Eric was damned if he knew.   
  
Jak, already captivated by the female figure, jogged down the heap of junk and stood next to her, unsure whether to touch her or not. The girl in the crater made that decision for him, as she stood up and stretched in a gesture that would have killed most fanboys.  
  
"...Where... where am I?"  
  
Eric sighed and walked up next to Jak. The kid was way too curious. Oh well, the lady asked a question. Best to answer her. "This is the scrapheap belonging to Tribe Omega, the last colony on Earth."  
  
Her wondering expression did not change. "...Who am I?"  
  
Jak, excited, grinned. "She's got amno-whatsit! What the Doc was telling us about!"  
  
The other scavenger palmed his forehead. "Shut up, kid." Addressing the girl, he continued. "Don't you even remember your name?"  
  
"...K...K..." The girl paused. "I think it begins with a K."  
  
Then Jak screamed, as blood gushed in a crimson fountain in his chest.  
  
The shapeshifting body of an Anima was behind him, one hand formed into a long, curved claw that had pierced through whatever clothing the boy had scrounged. A face blank of features besides the eyes glared menacingly at Eric, daring him to move.  
  
The girl was the only one who moved.   
  
With a flash of steel, a knife appeared in the Anima's forehead. It fell backwards, hurt, and shifted to a formless mass again, disappearing into the pile of trash.  
  
"Shit." Eric cursed. He would be blamed for a death on his watch. "Come with me, girl. Help me get the kid back to the camp."  
  
"...Kyrina." The girl responded.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name is Kyrina."  
  
And with that, she joined the man, leaving the small crater where a triangle within a circle was scorched into the earth.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk one: 9ine: cr4sh d4 p4r7ay  
  
**  
  
_"It's just one of those days  
Feelin' like a freight train  
First one to complain  
Leaves with a blood stain  
Damn right I'm a maniac  
You'd better watch your back  
Cause I'm fuckin' up your program  
And if you're stuck up  
You just lucked up  
Next in line to get fucked up.  
I think you'd better stop talking that shit  
So come and get it..."  
  
**Limp Bizkit - 'Break stuff'**  
_

* * *

Another universe, another time, another place.  
  
Tara awoke to blinding light.  
  
Next to her, on the verge of dropping off, was the blonde girl that the others called 'Alex'. Supposedly it was short for Alexandria, or something. Tara hadn't had the time to take notice.   
  
"Hey." Alex smiled through tired eyes. "You're awake."  
  
Tara nodded slightly as she let Durandal go through a diagnostics check. Seconds later, a metal tube poked into her mouth, pouring water down her parched throat.  
  
"Whoa." Tara grinned weakly after taking a breath. "I guess that Aero spell really took a lot out of me, didn't it?"  
  
Alex rolled her eyes in return. But the thief had saved all their lives. Magic wasn't her strong suit, and Patch had to drive, unless he let Durandal take that over for him.   
  
And that Aero spell had been powerful as all heck.  
  
If she could learn to do things like that... The blonde's tired eyes glazed over as she imagined having a large repetoire of magical spells at her disposal. Then there would be no need for this... person here intruding on their lives.  
  
Alex then immediately hated herself for thinking so shallowly. She had saved them, after all. Even if Rain had still been in shape to fight after downing two MEDUSA in a row.   
  
"...Can I learn how to do that?" She asked, innocently. "Magic, I mean."  
  
"Huh?" Said Tara, nearly choking on a mouthful of water. Coughing for a while, she replied, thinking. "Sure..."  
  
She was thinking a lot harder than she appeared to be. If she taught the other girl magic, Alex would probably use it against her one day when her cover was finally blown. But then again, maybe she could just hand them all in without them ever knowing that she was actually an Imperial assassin.   
  
It was Alex's tired look that finally made up her mind. It contained confidence, assurance, and most importantly, trust.   
  
Trust was a tool. It could be put to use.  
  
Sighing, Tara reached for her materia pouch and withdrew a handful of small green orbs. "Okay. Take for example this Fire materia..."

* * *

I wiped sweat from my brow and finished adding the last touches to the Chaos mecha. It hadn't been damaged too badly in the fight with the MEDUSA, only sporting a few plasma burns that were for the most part superficial. A few patches soon took care of that, however.  
  
But that was not what I had in mind.  
  
Patch, coming in, paused to admire my handiwork. "You sure about this?"  
  
"Yeah." I nodded. "This is what I want."  
  
The Chaos mecha that I had nicknamed 'Bob' now sported a new coat of black over its scratched and scuffed white. Black and grey was a much better color scheme, after all. And the Imperials would surely be on the lookout for any mecha with the white of the original Chaos-type colors.  
  
Plus, it looked cooler in black. I added two small detailed silver dragon heads on the left shoulder armor plate - confirmed kills. It took time, but that was something I had a lot of, since we hadn't arrived where Patch wanted us to be, yet.  
  
It had been upgraded a lot more since its last fight, as well. Aside from the beamstaff it now sported full armor, a wave motion cannon, and a pair of wicked Chaos-sized plasma rifles.  
  
"Not bad." Patch muttered, circling the crouching mecha. "Just one final touch..." He smeared a stray dollop of silver paint on his thumb and daubed a circle with a '7' in it on the right shoulder.   
  
I grinned at him as he smiled back.   
  
"Just in time too." He commented. "We should be there in a few hours. I'm going to have Durandal comm everyone to meet in the lounge."  
  
I tried not to show my shock at going into a possible battle situation again so soon, but it still showed on my face. "A few hours?"  
  
"What, you want to live forever?" He taunted. "Arm yourself, do whatever you want to do, and say your prayers. We crash the Reality Engine party tonight."  
  
I sighed. I had two girls who very probably had attachments to me, after a fashion. Both had kissed me, in uncompromising positions, as well. I was also very much an emotional neophyte, in that sense.   
  
I would have to sort this out. Hopefully they weren't fighting tooth and nail to see who ended up with me.   
  
Wiping my paint-splattered hands on my jeans, I strode out of the cargo hold, my mind already conjuring up images of Tara converted into a bloody smear, or Alex charred to a crisp by a magical fireball.  
  
I found them sitting on Alex's bunk, chatting quite amiably to each other, although Alex glared fiercely when she saw Tara flash me a coy smile. I hoped to hell she still didn't know about that kiss I got from Tara... and vice versa. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, the saying went, and I would be living proof of that.  
  
"Nice to see you two bonding." I let fly a remark, only slightly tinged with sarcasm. "I'd hate to see you two fight over me."  
  
"Men and their over-inflated egos." Alex retorted, picking up her M41-A trooper issue knife. "Why would we be fighting over you?" She put such an obvious emphasis on the word 'you' that it nearly made me wince.  
  
I held up my hands in protest. "I'm not here to engage in vicious reparte. Just telling you two that we'll be arriving soon, so we'd better get ready."  
  
A strange expression came over Tara's face. I wondered what it was. She is normally so readable.   
  
"Is the mecha okay?" Alex didn't miss a beat. The girl was about to stride into a war zone in a few hours, and she didn't even seem concerned. "You guys have been fussing over that thing for the last few days."  
  
"Boys and their toys." Tara chimed in, shaking her reddish-auburn tresses from side to side. "While we're on the topic, I guess we'd better tell you."  
  
"We've got something for you." Alex stood up and hugged herself, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. "You said you needed a new weapon, right? You lost your staff when you got captured."  
  
"Yeah..." I pause. "Have you two been keeping a secret?"  
  
Alex nodded, embarrassed. "It isn't much... but..." She reached under the bed and pulled out a staff similar to the one I had had before.  
  
"Whoa..." My jaw hangs loosely as I touch it. It is covered in a silvery metal that I immediately recognise - the metal that I have been welding to Bob. The grip is loose and well moulded, and as I twist my grip on the handle, I hear a small 'click' and a plasma blade springs to life at one end.  
  
Tara smiles. "It wasn't hard making something under your nose - you were always too busy with the Chaos unit. We based it off an 'ashandarei', a single-bladed staff. Hope you like it."  
  
The blonde grins as I twirl it in a flashy arc, the plasma energy humming as it passed through air, stopping a bare inch from her throat. She doesn't even flinch. "Took us some time, though. The plasma wouldn't stay stable, so we had to use a magical holding field to stop it from getting out of control."  
  
"Magic, eh?" I looked sideways at the redhead, remembering the time Tara had fried Durandal, Alex, and Patch into the bargain.   
  
She feigned innocence. "Who, me? Hey, it was for a good cause this time, wasn't it?"  
  
I sighed. Girls.

* * *

Patch frowned as he tapped his fingers idly on Durandal's steering system. The Reality Engine facility, as he saw it through the tank's scope sensors, had been put under twice as much guard as it had been last time. Men wearing the blue coats and red armor of the Imperial Guard stalked about nervously, carrying what he judged to be plasma rifles. More importantly, a pair of hulking shadows loomed in the background: artillery omega-type MEDUSA. Furthermore, a large aircraft, all spikes and edges, was situated near the camp.   
  
They would be trying to move the Reality Engine to the Imperial Citadel as soon as possible. A wise choice, since the main Imperial city (just called the 'City' by some), was heavily defended by a miracle of magic and Ancient technology that they called a 'shield-wall'. Virtually impenetrable.   
  
Attacking them now was the best option available. After all, once the Reality Engine was moved to the Imperial Citadel, Kira would be beyond his reach forever. There would be no chance at reclaiming her whatsoever. This was his chance.  
  
Plus, it would be good to work out some stress he had been experiencing at doing the entire O7's job for it after it had been destroyed.   
  
He leaned forward, showing a jaw-crushing smile, as the others walked in. Rain was in the lead, leaning on his new staff and looking moody. He had dumped his old denim blazer for a black combat jacket sewn with kevlar. Black suited his mood more anyway.   
  
Alex was in her old gear, white blouse and slacks, but the sleeves had been rolled up to expose armguards, and in her belt was her knife, studded with new materia and sharp as a razor. The new member of their team was now dressed in freshly-cleaned thief gear - headband framing short red tresses, tan shorts, materia gloves, and a pair of sai at her belt added to the image.  
  
Inspecting his troops, Patch sighed. A little young, but that couldn't be helped. They were skilled to at least a moderate degree, after all.  
  
It didn't take long for Durandal to draw up a 3D schematic of the area, showing the building in a flickering holoprojector.   
  
"Okay." He muttered. "There are more guards this time, so the illusion trick I used to sneak in last time won't work. They've even got a laser gate that we can't shut off without killing the power to the inside."  
  
Rain nodded, peering at the revolving 3D map. "Dave, freeze frame." The computer instantly complied, the map stopping. Gesturing at the image, he continued. "There's a ventilation chute out top. Does it go anywhere?"  
  
Before he finished the question Durandal was already answering. "I can detect large amounts of magical radiation from the area. My only natural conclusion was that there is a materia store inside the room, wherever it is."  
  
"A materia store?" Tara's ears perked up. "Say what?"  
  
Alex shook her head. She may not have liked the other girl, but her honest opinion was that Tara was a thief, and would most likely help herself to whatever she wanted on the way. "Maybe they have some spells down there that we could use to cause more damage."  
  
Patch's grizzled face tilted to one side. "So... okay. If we divide into two teams..."  
  
The blonde SFMA cadet was about to interrupt, but Tara had already glomped on to Rain. "I'm a team with Rain!" She stuck a tongue out at Alex.  
  
The O7 trooper palmed his forehead. "Kids..."  
  
Alex smiled. They were putting so much pressure on Patch, and all she could think about was Rain... how selfish could she be? "I don't mind." Tara just held on to Rain all the tighter, on the verge of cutting off his oxygen. The dark-haired teen began to turn a slight tinge of purple. "It makes more sense. Tara's a stronger mage, and if she found the materia store, could cause more damage than I could."  
  
Tara almost seemed surprised to see the other girl allowing her to take over. "Well... okay then. You go with the big guy..." Patch growled slightly. "And nuke some Imperial butt!"  
  
"So here's what we do." Patch said firmly before anyone else voiced a complaint. Rain would have, had he been not too busy trying to breathe. "Alex, you and me hit the building with Durandal."  
  
"Aye aye." Durandal said over the speakers, sounding slightly amused. "Ready when you are, _mon capitan_."  
  
Patch ignored the cyborg. "Rain, you and Tara take the Chaos mech and drop yourselves into the facility through the vet chute. Once there, cut the power to the laser gates, and we'll come in. Okay?"  
  
Rain nodded weakly, finally managing to pry the thief off his neck. He took heaving breaths, relishing the free air once more.  
  
"Then we join up again. You'll find us easy enough - just follow the explosions." For emphasis, Alex drove the point of her knife into the small table that was present in the lounge. It was heavy metal, but the blade still dug in slightly.

* * *

There was a young Imperial guard at the gate.   
  
Scratching the shirt collar of his blue Imperial uniform uncomfortably, he sighed, taking off the helmet that came with the red Imperial Guard uniform. Sweat marred his brow.  
  
For the sake of plot, let's just call him Jamie. He has no real importance to this story, and he will not ever. I just called him Jamie because I like the name, okay?  
  
He had trained long and hard for many years in the way of the ninja. Although his parents had cried when he had said he wanted to join the war against the Rebels, the Imperial recruiting office had been quick to snap him up. They were short on manpower, after all. To them, anybody who could point a gun and shoot was considered cannon fodder.  
  
Sure, he was a third generation Imperial citizen and would be hard pressed to tell the difference between a Rebel and a bunch of little kids off for adventure. Sure, he hadn't really had a 'master' during any of his hard years of training, unless you counted his many ninja videos, both animated and live action, that he had bought from some weird guy with a straw hat and rose-tinted glasses. Sure, he had never actually been to Japan, and had only picked up a few words of Japanese here and there through watching leftover DVD's. But he was confident that, if you traced back his lineage far enough, you would find many proud ninjas hiding in his family tree.   
  
Truly, the blood of his ancestors ran strong in him! Jamie waited stock still in his position, guarding the outer wall to the Reality Engine facility. He would finish the mission objectives perfectly! If he discovered any rogue Rebels, he would give the attack squad the signal to, um, attack! He would succeed and show everyone exactly what he was made of! He was invisible like a shadow. He was quiet like a ghost. He was silent like greased monkey. He was-   
  
A impossibly large tank appeared as if from nowhere, gliding out from the fog in front of him to level one hell of a cannon at the barrier.   
  
-_in deep shit_, realized Jamie as terror took hold.   
  
In a somewhat cruel, yet not entirely undeserved, joke of fate on the poor Jamie, every thought he had during this (his first real mission) was true, although not exactly in the way he had hoped.   
  
For instance, while there were many ninjas within his family tree, most of them had been quite well known during their lives. Indeed, Jamie was standing guard with about the same degree of pride. And while it was true that the blood of his ancestors ran strong in him, Jamie would have been surprised to learn that many of his ancestors had been tragically killed in their first missions.   
  
He would show everyone who saw him exactly what he was made of (a red liquid, mostly). He was as invisible as a shadow at 10:30 in the morning on a brilliantly sunny day. He was as quiet as the kind of ghost that wakes you up at midnight to chat about forging chains in life and likes to moan and rattle his copious examples. He was, indeed, as silent as a monkey who had suddenly been coated with a thick layer of greasy sludge.   
  
And most of all, he was in extremely deep shit. In fact, it would not be inaccurate to say that it had no bottom.   
  
A rocket ejected from one of the side-mounted tubes on the tank and exploded in the area where he had been standing, leaving a smear of red and blue Imperial uniform in the dirt.  
  
"Main cannon, fire!" Alex ordered.   
  
The large central cannon mounted on the turret brought itself around and fired a slug the approximate size and shape of a Ford Fiesta into the wall, where it impacted with a large 'boom'. Unfortunately, a large dent in the wall was the only sign that any damage had occured there at all.   
  
"Damn." Patch muttered. "I guess we'll just have to go with our original plan after all. Rain, you ready?"  
  
"Yeah." Rain replied into his comlink. With a heavy 'clunk', the back of Durandal fell open and one black Chaos mecha jetted out, a small form huddled in the crook of one mechanical arm.  
  
"Incoming." Durandal calmly stated, right before a large explosion shook the tank.  
  
"Who the hell was that?" Patch said, surprisingly coherently given the gravity of the situation.   
  
Part of the central control screen focused and resolved into a littls square at the lower left of the display, showing the forms of two MEDUSA. Not just any MEDUSA, though - these were wingless, a pair of gaussguns replacing the standard wing components. They were artillery mecha - Omega class MEDUSA.   
  
"Break off and engage." Patch barked. "Alex, save the missiles for later. Let's show 'em what else the tank cannon can do."  
  
"Right on." Alex slapped a targeting visor over her head and took manual control of weapons. With this, the power of the tank was hers to command. Turning to face the new threat, she keyed the main cannon and fired another high-explosive shell in the way of the Imperial MEDUSAs.   
  
The Omega-type MEDUSA, while being flightless, still had some advantages over normal artillery cannons. That being they were still MEDUSA. While slower than the aerial attack Beta-types and the general all-purpose Alpha-types, it could still move quite fast - it could match Durandal at max speed in fact.   
  
It still didn't manage to dodge the shell entirely, however. It clipped the right shoulder of the nearest one, and that happened to be enough, as the large gaussgun's ammo contributed to the explosion.   
  
The MEDUSA was now effectively reduced by half. Unusually, however, it was still up and moving, the left gaussgun returning fire. Obviously the Imperials had seen fit to equip simple computers into their MEDUSAs instead of pilots - cheaper and more cost-effective.   
  
"Shit." Alex cursed at the controls, as both the mecha returned fire, rocking Durandal severely and nearly throwing Patch off his feet. "Damage report!"  
  
"Armor down to 75% integrity. Missile tube #4 damaged." Durandal muttered, sounding slightly grim. "I'd suggest destroying those two MEDUSA as soon as possible. Failing that, we should avoid them."  
  
"Got it." Patch grumped, getting to his feet and taking a firm grip on his steering in case he was knocked flying again. He spoke into his comlink: "Rain, I don't know where the hell you are, but hurry the hell up!"  
  
"Incoming!" Durandal repeated, sounding strained.

* * *

'Bob' jetted up and over the barrier that the Imperials had put up for their protection. Behind me, I heard a muffled 'boom' as Durandal engaged the perimeter Imperials.   
  
"Okay?" I yelled over the engine noise.  
  
Tara grinned, her hair whipping about in the wind, huddled in the arm of the Chaos mech. She tapped on the cockpit window to show her enthusiasm, her voice sounding excited over the comlink in her ear.  
  
Seconds later we were met not entirely too cheerfully by a barrage of anti-aircraft fire.  
  
"Shit!" I screamed into my comlink, while I veered Bob away from the building and our supposed landing point. "Tara, can you get to the chute without me? I need to take care of business!" I moaned as another sprinkle of automatic gunfire peppered the new paint job.   
  
She nodded. Muttering a chant I did not catch, she summoned a small disk of magical energy, stepped on it, and zoomed away. I hoped to hell she didn't get hit - mecha armor was one thing, but human flesh was quite another.  
  
"Okay." I keyed the weapons, selecting the plasma cannons. "Let's get serious."   
  
Taking a leaf from Shade's book, I jetted across the base in wide arcs, firing the cannons. The soft hum of the buildup plus the zap of the discharge was pure joy for me that moment, as I dived to ground zero again and again, every time aiming for an unsuspecting group of gunners at their posts.   
  
Without further ado, I proceeded to systematically demolish the small group of deactivated MEDUSAs inside the base. No place better to fight them when they're down.   
  
Then, I saw a black-cloaked figure step away from the pile of burning machinery that had formerly been a gunning platform and launch a large fireball at me that I managed to dodge.  
  
Great. Goddamn mage.  
  
I opened fire, but a magical shield was already in place, deflecting the burning pockets of plasma harmlessly away. Whoever that was, the mage was good. Tara had warned me against facing mages.   
  
Taking her hint, I streaked away across the sky, hoping to make it before the mage caught on and begun seriously using spells...  
  
A sharp crack of thunder, and I was falling.   
  
Damn. Just too much to hope for, isn't it? I watched the normally stable displays on the Chaos's control system whirl out of control, shorted out or fried by the magical lightning bolt.   
  
My momentum kept me going, though. Working desperately, I managed to control the engines to get me close enough, and then I unstrapped myself, opened the cockpit hatch, and bailed.  
  
Jumping out of a moving mecha above a building that looks only a few feet below you but actually a lot, lot further is no fun at all.  
  
I hit the roof and nearly rolled over the edge before I caught the edge and stabilized myself. Glad that I had kept a firm grip on the 'ashandarei' the girls had constructed for me, I used it as leverage to prop myself up.  
  
A few metres in front of me, Bob skidded off the roof, and took a plunge as its engines finally died.   
  
And to think I spent so much time working on that thing.  
  
At least it made a satisfyingly powerful explosion when it landed.  
  
I sighed. Does anything ever go my way? Reaching the ventilation tube, I offer a silent prayer in hope that I'm not about to drop into a room where 20 or so high-powered rifles were aimed at my person, I shot down it feet-first.

* * *

Catherine Shaw smiled, whipping her black cloak around her regardless of the cold. It didn't really affect her, anyways.   
  
That Chaos mecha had been easy to down. And to think it caused so much havoc. The Imperial Empire should really look into drafting more mages. One simple Bolt spell and they all malfunctioned.   
  
Why Renaku had called her was a mystery. She had been relieved of all duties regarding the Reality Engine, due to her failure in the last debacle when a Rebel had managed to escape with the Key.   
  
It didn't matter now. She supposed anybody with her magical ability really should be asked to do a job like this, not forced.   
  
"We got one of them... well, more like she gave herself up." A red-armored trooper of the Imperial Guard walked up to her. "Says her name is Tara - she works for some top-level Imperial guy called Renaku. Is she one of us, or not?"  
  
Catherine Shaw paused. No. Not THAT Tara. Renaku wouldn't have hired her if he still had a sane brain cell in his body. There was no way he would have done that... would he?  
  
Maybe he was just playing them all against each other, like some sort of twisted game.  
  
"Can I see her?" The Imperial scientist put on an imploring look.  
  
"Dunno." The trooper shrugged. "She whined so much that Keith thought of killing her right then."  
  
"Dammit! I need to see her!!!"  
  
"Might already be too late." The Imperial foot soldier put on a bemused expression. "Keith, ya know, he has a short temper." But he beckoned, and Catherine followed, growing increasingly uncomfortable about the entire situation.  
  
Inside the complex, Tara said her prayers.  
  
"Any last words?" The grinning man stared down at her, bound wrists to ankles like a turkey ready for roasting. "Want a smoke or somethin'?"  
  
She glared up at him. "For the last time, I'm one of you! I work for a man called Renaku! That's R-E-N-A-K-U, for those of you who can't spell! And he'll be well pissed off if you inconvenience me..."  
  
He glared right back, and in a dangerously low voice he said, "How about you shut your trap right now, little missy, or I'll will off you."  
  
"Where's the Imperial tattoo she got if she's one of us?" A thin, gangly trooper piped up. "She ain't got no mark on her forehead."  
  
"I have the tattoo." She flushed. "It's on the inside of my left thigh."  
  
Whistles and catcalls sounded. "Then show 'em, lady."  
  
She ground her teeth. Idiots... when she was back in power, just for the hell of it, she would come back here to this guy and watch him die by her own hand.  
  
"Show 'em." The gangly trooper repeated. "Or we kill you."  
  
This was an affront to her dignity! Would she truly sink that low just to save her own skin? Wait a second... those ropes they used were loose. Maybe she could work her way out of this one yet...  
  
"Screw this." A heavyset man added, leveling a nine mil at her. "Die, Rebel scum."  
  
And with that, he fired.  
  
In that split second before the slide slams backwards, the spent shell ejects out the side of the gun and the bullet slams forward, a few very important things happened.  
  
The first was that a very dirty, scuffed Rain barged through the door, staff in hand.  
  
The second was that Tara realised that she was about to die. Getting loose of the ropes took time even for a professional like her, and she did not have that time.  
  
The third was that Rain threw himself in the path of the bullet.  
  
Restart time around here if you used the slow-motion play-by-play camera angle. If you didn't, on with the story, although you may want to record this: it's_ so_ much cooler in slo-mo.  
  
The redhead's eyes grew wide as the full impact of the shell hitting flesh resounded through the room.  
  
Utter silence reigned.  
  
Rain collapsed in a heap, eyes vacant and staring, a hole punched through his body at chest level.  
  
"...you... shot him." Tara said, head bowed, barely shaking with rage. "You shot him."  
  
"No shit." Heavyset muttered, blowing smoke off the end of one finger as if reliving the moment.  
  
In the next few moments the men standing to either side of her realised they had made a mistake by not tying her up tightly enough and leaving her weapons within easy reach.   
  
With an almost primal roar, Tara broke free of the ropes, and before the startled men could even blink, had both her sai in her hands, and held them up in a fighting position.   
  
Heavyset fired again, but missed due to his startlement. That motion was all the thief needed - she flipped her body up, kicking the weapon out of the man's hand, and with the downstroke slashed sideways to score his face across. He stumbled back, face a bloody mess.  
  
Dropping to the floor, the redhead stabbed one of her sai through one's foot. Kicking off the blade, she leaped up and backwards to plant a kick in the stomach of one who had been trying to sneak up behind her.   
  
She bent down, retrived her sai off the one who was screaming bloody murder about his foot being shish kebabed, and punched him in the chest, with the blade of the other sai protruding from between her fingers.  
  
Twisting, she knocked one back and away with a simple roundhouse kick, and finally blew him into the wall with the use of a Fire spell.  
  
Sighing as the trooper breathed his last, she was on her knees and pumping healing magic into Rain before the bodies dropped.  
  
"Unnnh?" The boy groaned intelligently. "Damn... that hurt."  
  
But even as he was speaking the bullet wound in his chest shrunk to almost nothing, leaving only a sore pink patch of skin where the bullet had hit. As he got up he was held by a sobbing Tara, holding him close.   
  
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Don't be." Rain muttered weakly. "I'm just freaking F-I-N-E."  
  
"Fine?" She murmured quizzically.  
  
"...Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional."  
  
She giggled for a moment, unable to help herself. "At least your sense of humor remains intact."  
  
"We should cut the power. Alex and Patch out there are counting on us to shut down the gates..." Before he had finished speaking, a blue bolt of magical electricity had arced from her hand into the lightstick that lit the room.   
  
The facility was plunged into darkness as the energy surge overloaded all the capacitors in the building's energy supply and shoved it forcefully back into the Dark Ages.  
  
"I'm sure we can wait on that."


	10. DISK I: s3e j00 0n th3 other s1de

Catherine Shaw, Imperial scientist, high-level mage, skilled with various dangerous implements, with an IQ in the high 200's, was not happy.   
  
Well, this would probably be an understatement.  
  
She had been demoted since the Rebels attacked the Reality Engine base last time, and been assigned to guard duty by the recently promoted Renaku. And to think she once stood above him!   
  
Groping blindly in the dark, she huddled herself up against the wall. "What in hell just happened?"   
  
The trooper standing next to her sighed. "Goddamn power cut. And in the middle of an attack too."  
  
"Where are you keeping the Rebel girl prisoner?'  
  
"Armory, ma'am."  
  
Shit, if it was really THAT Tara, then they were in for some serious problems. "Do you know the way there?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Lead me." She offered him a hand.  
  
Surprisingly, he took it. His hand was warm against her own. "Hold tight." Then he was off, dragging her behind him. Her cloak billowed out behind her in a black flag as they rushed past the dead and dying, muffled explosions in the distance.  
  
All too soon, they were there. The trooper let go of her hand, and she was surprised to find herself actually missing the physical contant.  
  
"Holy crud." He whispered. Wondering why he had stopped so abruptly, the Imperial scientist stepped round his red-armored form to get a better view.  
  
The glowbar in the ceiling flickered weakly, giving out just enough light to reveal the mutilated bodies of half a dozen Imperial guards, blood spattered across the floor, and weapons and materia spilled all over the floor.  
  
"I guess she was here." Catherine muttered usefully. She strode in, being careful not to step in any of the dismembered human body parts. She began sifting through the pile of junk, looking for something.  
  
The trooper, meanwhile averted his eyes at the sight of his dead comrades. "What 're you looking for?"  
  
She gave him a long hard stare before replying. "It's gone. She took it."  
  
"What?" He muttered unintelligently.  
  
"The summon materia. They're missing."

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk one: 10en: see j00 0n th3 oth3r 5ide...  
  
**

* * *

Tara let Rain deal with another group of red-armored troopers ahead of them while she opened the ornately carved wooden box and removed one red materia from it, clicking it into one of the empty grooves on her right glove. She smiled.   
  
They had some good weapons after all. But the Imperial's stingy policies meant that they did not allow the use of summoning materia unless it was an extreme situation.   
  
Tara had no qualms about using it for them.  
  
In her mind, however, she was only doing this as a routine. She was incredibly confused as to what she should do. Her job as an assassin for the Imperial Empire told her to knock out, no, kill Rain and hand his body in to Renaku. And possibly the bodies of Patch and Alex as well.   
  
But, she had been weak. She had allowed herself to form an emotional attachment to the boy. What else could it be? She had felt nothing other than fear, pure fear that shook her to the core that the dark-haired teen was dead. He very well could have been.   
  
It was a selfless sacrifice. Rain knew he had the chance of dying when he threw himself in the line of fire. But he had done it, and with no other excuse than that he had cared about her. How ironic. He had ended up saving the life of the person that was supposed to kill him at risk of his own.  
  
She fought back the tears. She had nowhere to go, now. Renaku would not accept sentimental attachment as an excuse to fail. Even more likely, he would send people to dispose of her.  
  
Nowhere to go.  
  
She forced her mind back to the present. It was still a war zone, after all. Crying in fury, she doubled over a trooper with a fierce punch to his gut, and took the opportunity to kick him in the face. Twisting around him, she used his own plasma pistol to shoot him in the chest. He twitched as he collapsed.   
  
Requisitioning the pistol, she turned to fire just as the three others behind her collapsed in a hail of automatic fire. Rain grinned wildly at her, leaning the assault rifle on his shoulder, staff behind his back.   
  
No time to think about emotional problems. Have to fight, keep fighting, always fighting.   
  
Kicking open another door that led deeper into the complex, Tara led the way, her face streaked with blood.

* * *

Scarcely a hundred meters away, Durandal steamrolled through the front gates, as the laser gates and power for the facility had been shut down by Tara's spell.   
  
It was also helpful, since it meant the perimeter plasma cannons were offline, allowing Alex to cheerfully destroy them as they stood helplessly, unable to fire.  
  
Patch drove on until the tunnel grew narrower. He knew Durandal would not be able to maneuver properly, boxed in and an easy target for fire. "Hey, Durandal, this is our stop. Keep 'em busy as long as you can."  
  
"Yes, sir. I will hold them off as long as I am able. I will be in constant contact with you through comlink." The robotic voice stated.  
  
"So we get close and personal?" Alex muttered, hitting the strap release buttons on her harness and checking her knife.  
  
Patch grabbed his gatling gun. "Ayup." He seemed to pause for a second, them reached into his pocket and pulled out the small handheld terminal that he had used in the O7 before it had become a rapidly expanding cloud of subatomic particles. "Take this. In case I get killed or captured, this will contain instructions on what you are to do."  
  
"You won't die, Patch." The blonde said with absolute conviction. "I know it."  
  
"I'd hope to hell not." The Rebel trooper groaned. "If I die with you watching my back, it'll be all your fault."  
  
"I like." Alex replied, plugging the small comlink earpiece into her left ear. "See ya, Dave. Nice knowing you."  
  
"I could say the same." Durandal replied. "Take care." He added, showing one of the human traits he still had.  
  
"You too."  
  
And with that, the explosive bolts on the emergency escape hatch blew open, sending the hatch up and away. Patch, heavy artillery strapped to his back, jumped out, followed by a blonde who held her knife like she knew how to use it. And that she knew she did, as well.  
  
In a side passage of the tunnel, a door opened, and red-armored troopers piled out.  
  
"Down!" Yelled Patch, as rifle fire holed the spot where they had been. He started up his gatling gun, feeling the wonderful sensation of the cylinders rotating through the weapon.  
  
Each of the cylinders on Patch's gun was capable of firing depleted uranium slugs - a hell of a lot of them, nearly 360 per second. Multiply that by a factor of six, and you'll know what I mean.   
  
Expended ammo shells ejected out the gun at high speed, forming a rapidly growing pile at his feet. The pack he wore, filled mostly up by one long ammo belt, began to grow lighter.   
  
The Imperial troopers were equipped with the latest in spider-silk armor plate technology. It was nearly impervious to all types of small-arms fire, excepting plasma pistols. Patch's fire mowed them down like weeds in the face of a lawnmower.   
  
When the last of them had fallen, Alex raised an approving eye at the pile of empty shells. "Good shooting."  
  
"Let's go." Patch muttered, dumping the gatling gun and pulling out his antique shotgun. "We have to catch up to the other two."  
  
Alex was at the door. "Already ahead of you." Opening the door a fraction, she tossed a frag grenade inside, and closed it again. Three seconds later there was an earthshattering boom and the heavy steel door bent almost double off its hinges.  
  
Prying the smoking door open, Alex beckoned. "You know where the Engine room is?"  
  
"Follow the signs." Patch gestured to the slightly smoking sign on the left side of the corridor. "That is, if you don't damage them first."  
  
"Got it." Alex replied, checking the materia on her knife hilt. "Let's find this Reality Engine thing and get the hell out of here."  
  
The O7 trooper turned at the next junction and let out a burst from his shotgun, as the form of an Imperial trooper went flying, blasted backwards from the force of the shot. Behind him, Alex followed.  
  
Then Rain and Tara were running towards them, chased by two Imperials with plasma rifles.  
  
Rain dived forward, aiming his assault rifle, and jumped, letting off two bursts in midair. The troopers that had been trying to sneak up behind Alex ate hot lead as they fell. Alex let a knife fly, burying itself in the neck of one of the troopers who had been chasing Rain. The other one fell victim to a shotgun blast.  
  
"Damn, we're good." Rain noted, landing.  
  
"Lieutenant Patch." Durandal's voice sounded in Patch's head. "Sustaining heavy fire. I'm damaging them too, but there are more of them."  
  
"Keep them off for just a little longer! We have to get to the Engine!" Patch replied, already up and running. "Guys, follow me!"  
  
Alex was right there beside him, as well as Tara, who looked for some reason incredibly depressed. She was still as sharp as ever, as the twin sai in her hands showed. Rain brought up the rear, assault rifle still blasing.   
  
The four of them burst through another, larger door, Tara and Alex both with spells ready, Rain with rifle at shoulder height, and Patch still sporting his shotgun. The Reality Engine stood where it had been, the only difference being that most of the electronical equipment and stuff surrounding it had been moved. Then, the group finally halted, facing one single woman.  
  
"I knew you would come here and try to destroy the Engine before you died." Catherine Shaw yawned, inspecting her nails. "A last act, as a tribute to your dead Rebel brethren?"  
  
"I came here to find my friend Kira." Patch spat, tersely, his shotgun aimed at her. "And if you try to stop me, I will have to kill you."  
  
She didn't answer him, her eyes roving over each of his companions in turn. "Is this all you have left? A bunch of unruly children? Please." Her eyes came finally to rest on Tara. "And this one. Do you have Imperial assassins working in the Rebel force now?"  
  
Patch froze.  
  
Ever so slowly, not taking his eyes off the Imperial scientist, he pulled his Desert Eagle out of its holster with his free hand and leveled it at Tara, the laser sight painted on her face.   
  
Tara closed her eyes.

* * *

Oh my god.  
  
She was an assassin! All along! Sent to kill us! Pretending to be a thief!   
  
And to think _SHE KISSED ME_!!!  
  
Little lemmings appeared in my brain, had a little tea party, and danced the macarena on my skull.   
  
That girl was an assassin.  
  
And to think _I SAVED HER_!!!  
  
My attention snapped back to the woman in the black cloak. She knew more than she told us - I was sure of it. I may not have taken Battle Psychology back at the academy, but it was obvious she was holding something back. A trump card?  
  
I didn't let go of my rifle, keeping it lined up on the woman in the cloak. I recognised the cloak from somewhere - the mage that had downed Bob. Great. Now this got personal.  
  
Ignoring the little debacle between Patch and Tara, I walked closer to the woman in black. I felt the odd feeling that I had seen her before, somewhere...  
  
Her eyes widened as she saw the pendant around my neck, and I grinned in my mind. She would not expect that, and that would most likely put her off her balance. I hoped that was a good enough advantage.  
  
She spoke first. "Who are you, and why do you have the Dragon's Tear?" The voice was cold as ice. I had to make a conscious effort to stop myself from shuddering at the sound of that voice.   
  
"I'm the kid the Rebel summoned." I answered, pushing all the emotion away into the back of my mind the way I had been taught and hoping that I sounded at least half as chilled as she was. "The Dragon's Tear is _mine_."  
  
"You think so?" She smirked - the first facial expression I had seen on her face so far. She would have been beautiful had she not been so cold.   
  
Then she made a motion with her hands. It was a simple one, but I felt a prickly feeling in the air as magic flowed across my body. I was immobilised in seconds, the assault rifle dropping from limp fingers. An enormous, invisible pressure forced me to my knees. I saw the same thing happen to Patch, as his eyes widened and both his guns fell from his hands.  
  
Alex struggled, but slowly, surely, her trembling form dropped to the floor, tears of rage coming from her eyes as she fought the invisible power that was holding them cold.  
  
Tara was the only one left standing, her eyes hollow and weary. All trace of the cheerful girl I had known was gone.  
  
"You think so." The woman in the black cloak repeated. "And what now? Will I just take the Key from your unmoving body? Or will I kill you and watch you bleed to death? I know..." She continued, a smile on her face. "I think I should test where the assassin's loyalty lies."   
  
Tara's head jerked up, her eyes frightened. I was reminded of a deer caught in headlights. "...What do you want?"  
  
"Kill them." The cloaked woman hissed. "It's your job, after all, isn't it? You were supposed to kill them and you failed. I now give you a chance to redeem yourself. Kill them _all_. Starting with this one."  
  
The invisible force pushed me facefirst into the ground, where I landed in front of Tara.  
  
I watched as she drew one of her sai with shaking hands.   
  
"I'm sorry." Tears ran across her cheeks as the knife drew closer to my neck. _Five inches. Four. Three_. And still the sharp deadly edge grew closer.  
  
She stopped.  
  
I guess some of the pain and betrayal my face felt must have conveyed itself to her. As she bent down, a contorted expression twisted her face. She looked so sad, so hopeless, that I couldn't resist comforting her, helpless as I was.  
  
"Don't you... dare touch me..." I mumbled defiantly through gritted teeth.   
  
"What are you waiting for?" The mage snapped. "Kill him already."  
  
Tara took a deep breath, her chest heaving. She closed her eyes. "I... can't do it."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"I said I can't do it!" Tara wailed in a tortured scream.  
  
The Imperial scientist sneered. "Pitiful. Weak. You are worthless." And with that, she backhanded Tara across the face, sending her sprawling. "Bitch." She added. "Die with them as well." And she gestured, ready to immobilize her as well.  
  
Tara, tears streaming down her face, said one word. It was one word I would remember for a long time to come. "No."  
  
Hope sprang in me as Tara swung her other sai knife into her free hand. "I won't let you kill them!" She yelled, tackling the black-cloaked woman.   
  
The woman was too quick, however, and countered with a throw that sent Tara flying. She went down in a painful heap, but quickly rose to her feet.  
  
"So. It's like this, is it? A duel of mages?" The woman muttered, rolling her sleeves up and exposing a long-bladed knife that was also stocked with little green orbs. "So be it."  
  
There was utter silence for a few seconds.  
  
I felt so incredibly useless. I was unable to move, while Tara fought for our lives and hers. This, without a doubt, sucked big sweaty donkey gonads.  
  
I watched with trepidation on one of the loudest silences I had ever heard.  
  
Then the Imperial mage opened up. "Aurora, exhale bloody air, call forth your tainted light! _Shadow Flare_!" Small motes of dark fire appeared, burning brightly in midair. They converged on Tara and exploded in a colossal explosion of pyrotechnics. She screamed in pain.   
  
But she got up, and dodged the subsequent fireball the Imperial mage sent her way. "Too slow!" She jumped sideways, ducking behind a large crate packed with equipment.   
  
"You can only run for so long." The black-cloaked woman laughed, cackling evilly. "Are you afraid? Of what? Of _me_? This will be nothing compared to what will happen when Renaku gets his hands on you.   
  
Then her eyes lifted up... to see Tara standing on top of the crate, hands outstretched in a classic caster's pose. She turned to run, dodge, anything, but it was too late. "Untainted light, enter my hand and grant me your all-embracing purity! _HOLY_!!!" Between her palms, a glimmering ball of white energy formed, which then shot out in a pure comet of power to smack into the dark mage and send her flying.  
  
I nearly sprang up cheering. Then I noticed something. The magic pressure holding me was gone! I stood up, ready for action... then I realised something. The power holding Alex and Patch was still active. I sighed, tried to move them, and failed miserably.   
  
The magic duel between Tara and the other woman had escalated, their combat dragging them further away into the far corners of the room, leaving small craters where missed spells impacted.   
  
Then I became aware of a soft humming emanating from somewhere on my person.   
  
I looked down and saw my pendant, actually floating in air, tugging on the cheap silver chain holding it. I shifted about, but it never moved, the tip of the triangle inside pointing in one direction.   
  
The Reality Engine.  
  
For the first time, I became truly aware of it. Energy hummed around it in arcs, and I could actually feel the thing's power flowing through me. Entranced, I reached forward.  
  
My pendant snapped off the chain.  
  
The small metal ornament flew forward, spinning crazily, before it centered itself in midair, right between the top and bottom transporting discs of the Engine.  
  
It seemed to be glowing strongly.   
  
I lunged forward. "No, you're not getting away from me - "  
  
I then realised I was actually IN the Reality Engine.   
  
Snagging the pendant, I prepared to jump back and -   
  
No. I grabbed it and pulled with all my might. It wouldn't budge.  
  
Panicking, I reached for it with both hands, hoping that I would be able to actually get it out.  
  
There was an incredible pulse of silver energy. It rippled outwards in all directions. I felt as if my entire body had become a being of pure power, formless, shapeless, just infinitely there, so full with magic.  
  
I saw myself, in a million reflections, drifting away from myself, flying through the void, pulled in a million different directions. In a million different universes. Living a million lives. Having a million hopes, dreams, loves, and hates. And I knew, that with a thought, they were all, essentially ME. One of me looked at me through my eyes, and I had this incredible feeling that I was watching myself _watch myself watch myself watch myself...._  
  
I screamed, as a white-hot burning sensation appeared on the back of my right hand. I looked at it through my eyes (MINE!!!) and saw a mark, burned black against my skin, the mark of the triangle within the circle.   
  
I rose my hand, up, instinctively, and I felt energy ripple from me to the machine. The Key was affected by its close proximity to the Engine it had been created to operate. The Key was me. I was the Key.   
  
_I was the Key._

* * *

Tara rolled behind another crate as a wall of fire slammed against the place where she would have been.  
  
She was tiring and she knew it. The other mage was fresh, equipped with more varied and powerful materia, and more experienced. She knew there was no possible way she could win this fight. She could only prolong her own death.  
  
Catherine knew this as well. She was happy to bide her time, toy with her prey a little, give it an illusion of winning, and then destroy it utterly.   
  
But they both stopped to turn and watch when a silver wave of energy pulsed out from the central cylinder of light that was the Reality Engine.  
  
Tara noticed two things: that Rain was missing from where he had been held prisoner, and that the Engine was shining so brightly it was impossible to see anything inside.  
  
Alex and Patch were both on their feet, eyes wide. The magical radiation had the effect of dispelling any long-term effect spell, as the power from the Engine peaked and rippled over them all in waves.  
  
"What the..." Patch muttered a curse that would have been too vile to type, and that was saying something. "He's inside?"  
  
The black-cloaked mage smiled. "The Key has been returned to the Engine. The Dragon's Tear has fully activated the Key. The power of the Engine will remain the Imperial Empire's forever!"  
  
"I think not - " Tara turned, but she was too late. The other woman was already within casting range. She never had a chance.  
  
"You who dwell in darkness, you who command the primordial chaos, you who lie in wait to rise again, add your will to my own, grant your power to my hand, that together we may extinguish the light of hope!!!!!!" Catherine cackled insanely. "_UNHOLY_!!"  
  
The dark spell knocked Tara into a wall. She fell down in a heap and did not get up.  
  
"And that takes care of that." Catherine muttered smugly. "As for you - " She snapped her fingers, and a fully charged plasma rifle nudged the back of Patch's skull courtesy of a Imperial BlackOp trooper. Two more covered Alex.  
  
Patch sighed. Nothing for it. "Okay. You win. We surrender." But as before, he twitched an eyebrow. It was at Alex this time, not at Kira, but it still got the message across. Alex's eyes grew wide.  
  
Durandal was in her ear, whispering comfortingly. "Go to Rain. He needs you. Patch wants you to do this. Get out of here alive."  
  
She nearly let off a reply, but she realised speaking would alert the Imperial BlackOps covering her. She hoped to hell this would work; offering a silent prayer in her head for Patch and Tara, she broke and ran for the Engine.  
  
As the BlackOps tensed their fingers to fire on her, Patch threw himself sideways, into the path of the shots. The Rebel trooper hoped his sacrifice was not for naught - the Rebellion's ideals had to live on. In the minds of kids if it had to.  
  
But as the plasma bolts came close to him, a flickering magical barrier appeared. Weak though it was, the burning pockets of plasma spanged off the barrier, saving Patch's life.  
  
"YOU!!!" Catherine screamed in incoherent fury. "Why won't you DIE?"  
  
Tara was crawling forward, blood darkening her clothing in several places, but the materia in her sais shone with power and her eyes gleamed with the fire of defiance.  
  
"I guess a last gesture wouldn't hurt." Tara muttered through a mouthful of something with the coppery taste of blood. "Hey! Catch!"  
  
A small, ornately carved wooden box flew through the air. It was a poor, throw, weakened as Tara was, but Alex still managed to catch it, snagging it cleanly out of the air. She stopped for a second, unsure of what to do.   
  
"Go!" Tara yelled. "Go to him!"  
  
Alex turned and sprinted in an all out dash, racing for the pulsing cylinder of light that was the Reality Engine.  
  
Catherine readied a spell. "..._Shadow F_-"   
  
"No, you don't." Tara growled. "I'm not finished yet." She focused, concentrating what was left of her strength and will through the glowing red materia in her glove. The words came easily and naturally to her mind, the power of the guardian rising through her body. She didn't know whether she could control this guardian... ready or not, it had to be done. It was her last chance.   
  
"...From thy eternal slumber I call to thee!" Tara muttered, as quietly as she dared. "Voice of the north wind, dancer of frost! I conjure you, I invoke you, by the power bestowed on me through your covenant!"  
  
"What are you doing?" Catherine asked, mildly.  
  
Not caring, the redhead continued the spell. She could not stop it now. The spell had begun to take on a part of her essence, and she could not end it. The spell had to follow her through at its own pace. "...Let the air and earth be sown with the crystals of winter! I call upon you, Shiva, Goddess of Ice! _Diamond Dust_!"

* * *

The world faded to blackness.  
  
Tara looked around, as the darkness slowly reformed itself into shapes of icy slopes, with snow falling from the sky. And in front of her, floating in air, peaceful and serene as winter itself, stood the form of Shiva, Guardian of Ice.  
  
Shiva smiled down at the redhead. _What is wrong? I sense you are... hurt_.  
  
"No shit." Tara spat grumpily out onto the clean white snow. She was shocked to discover that the patch of snow had turned blood red.  
  
Shiva shook her head, laughing as small crystals of ice continued to fall from the sky. _Not on the outside. Your emotions are troubled. Is something the matter?  
_  
Tara stopped for a moment. She couldn't hold it in, not all, not now. She began to cry openly, hot tears dripping onto the ice. Everything that had happened in the last few hours... it had been too much.  
  
Surprisingly, Shiva floated down from her perch in the sky to land next to the other girl, and held her in an embrace. _I understand._   
  
"It was just a job!" She mumbled between sobs. "And I couldn't do it! I was supposed to kill him! And I couldn't! I've... fallen for him!" Her sobbing redoubled, as the goddess of ice held her close.   
  
_It's okay._ Shiva murmured comfortingly on the voice of the north wind. _Not being willing to kill doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you more human. Having a consience is nothing to be ashamed about.  
_  
Tara cried herself to sleep in the goddess's arms.

* * *

Oh... shit, Catherine thought as the silvery-white form of Shiva, the Lady of Winter herself, rose from the limp form of Tara to hang in the air. Her eyes blazed with a fury that few had ever seen from the guardian of ice.  
  
The BlackOps did the smart thing and began to back away. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near fast enough. Patch dived behind a metal crate, having seen Callings before and knowing the damage they caused.  
  
_You... hurt her in this way_? Shiva asked questioningly.  
  
Catherine did not reply. She was too busy flinging out protective spells like they were going out of fashion. "Guardian souls, grant us your defense! Shell!"   
  
Too little, too late. Shiva arched backwards, gathering a ball of pure frozen WhoopAss(tm) in her hands. Snapping her entire body forward, she hurled it across the room. As the energy flew forwards and dispersed, the entire area was coated in a layer of ice metres thick. BlackOps struggled, before they were caught in sub-zero temperatures and they begun to freeze.  
  
Not freeze as in cold. Freeze as in solid. Before long, all that remained of them were lifelike frozen meat popsicles.  
  
Patch, being shielded from the brunt of the assault, winced as a layer of ice formed over his head. Gathering his strength, he began to break through it.  
  
Catherine, even being heavily shielded, still felt the chill of the wrath of the Goddess of Winter. Shiva was not one who could be crossed safely.  
  
As Shiva disappeared, Catherine let loose a sigh of relief. That had been too close. Tara had been smarter than she predicted, keeping the Summon materia for her own use instead of stashing the lot and selling them for money later as she was wont to do. Her mind leaped to the wooden box the assassin had tossed the other girl - that was the store for Summon materia! Great. That would cost a fortune to replace.  
  
And speaking of magic... She stared at the massive glowing cylinder that was the Reality Engine with more than a little trepidation. For all the research, the Imperial scientist still didn't know everything about the machine - only that it had the capability to send people to other universes if the Key could be controlled.  
  
So. The kid was the Key. He would have to be controlled.  
  
The sound of some very rough cursing broke her attention.   
  
She drew her Magnum and tapped the back of Patch's head with the barrel, resisting the urge to laugh. It was comical - the Rebel trooper had managed to break a hole in the ice large enough for his head to fit through, but none of the rest of his body.  
  
"Are you going to come along peacefully, or not?" She smiled sadistically.  
  
He muttered something under his breath. "I don't care, as long as you get my ass out of here. I don't know about you, but its _fuckin' free_zin' in here."  
  
Catherine chuckled. "The great O7 lieutenant Patch Randall, captured. What would Renaku say?"

* * *

All this power.   
  
It flowed through me, intrinsically bonding me into the pattern of the universe, the wheel of time itself. I felt as the universe felt, and hated and loved and dreamed as Rain.  
  
I was just about ready to let go, to release myself and spiral into that wonderful, wonderful existence of energy, when a pair of arms reached around me.  
  
_A warm body pressed into mine._  
  
Alex.  
  
I couldn't do this.   
  
I couldn't just leave her. She needed my help.   
  
The feeling of being pulled in a million directions came again. On one side there was Alex, needing me to help her. On the other there was this power, this Engine, that beckoned me to it, drew me to it even as I struggled to maintain my own mentality. And on another side, a large part of me that just wanted to go home, back to Madame Tessaline's orphanage, to see her caring, lined face, and enjoy the cookies and milk I had as a child.  
  
Love.  
  
I turned to her, my eyes pools of silver energy. "What is it?"  
  
She was holding back tears. A day for sorrow, is it then? I felt the pain of loss and angst, of release and hope. I realised then I was actually feeling what Alex was, as she was inside the Engine. I knew her in that moment as well as I knew myself.   
  
"We have to go on, don't we?"  
  
"Yes." She answered, but I already knew. "Patch... he somehow knew he was going to... die today." She had to struggle hard to actually admit he was dead.  
  
"I know." I answered. Our minds linked, I felt the beginning of tears in my eyes as well. "What does he want us to do?" I asked, silver energy all around us. We were in the Engine, and here, I controlled all.  
  
She pulled a small handheld computer from her pack. After all that had happened, she still had her old JanSport bag. "He left us this."  
  
The machine emitted a small 'beep'. Then the Durandal test pattern appeared on the tiny screen, followed by the sound of Durandal's voice.   
  
"Help!" It said.  
  
Before I knew it, my mind was already prying into the handheld device, seeking out answers.  
  
"What's wrong?" Alex asked.  
  
"It's... so... small." Durandal muttered. "Where are we?"  
  
"The Engine." I grinned proudly. "And its all mine."  
  
"Durandal, are you okay?" Alex questioned, but before I even asked I knew it. It was saddening.   
  
"I was... about to die." Durandal answered. "They managed to get the emergency power supplies to the guns and destroyed me. My core is still intact, its probably the only reason I'm still here - "  
  
"Durandal." I muttered gently. "You're dead."  
  
"No, my core is - "  
  
"This isn't a broadcast. There aren't any broadcasts coming out of the Engine. I'm sure of that." I stopped, feeling the power of the Engine again. "You're been destroyed. Your brain is fried. And you've been uploaded to this handheld computer."  
  
"...Oh." Durandal murmured. "Does this mean... I'm not human anymore...?"  
  
Alex sighed, grasping the concept quickly. "You don't have an organic bit left in you. Now you're just a computer program."  
  
Durandal stopped dead. There was silence on the screen for a few seconds more, then the test pattern returned. "I... understand."  
  
"So where do we go? Patch is... gone." I asked the computer, preferring not to delve into the machine's mind, as that could be seen as an invasion of privacy in the only mind David J Skye had left.  
  
"In the event of Lieutenant Patch Randall's decease or incapacitation, the following media files shall be unlocked. Play now?"  
  
I nodded facing the handheld's small camera 'eye'. I am secretly glad for the computer camera, as a blind Durandal would probably lead to a traumatized and instable Durandal in no time.   
  
There was a beep, then Patch's familiar voice belted from the tinny speakers. "_Hey. If you're listening to this, I'm probably dead or dying. So here's what you do. You can either go back to your home universe, live out your lives, and ignore everything that happens. Or, you can do me a bigass favor and find a girl called Kira Highwind."  
_  
"Kira...?" I mutter.  
  
_"She's the only mage with enough power to take down whatever the Imperials have to throw at her. She's also a damn good friend of mine. She was thrown into some crappy universe called Hades when the Reality thing misfired. The only one who can bring her back is Rain, since he has the Dragon's Tear to control the Engine_." Patch's tinny recorded voice continued. "_Find her and bring her back to our home universe, and set her loose on the Imperial Empire."_  
  
Alex nodded as tears streamed down her face. Even in defeat Patch's voice seems to hold a sort of weary indifference, as if he knew he was going to die and he didn't care.   
  
"_She could use some of your help too. But... what am I saying? Free will, right? I'm not forcing you to do this. Sure you can go home if you want. But bring Kira home. She deserves at least that much."  
_  
I feel Alex's pain through the mental link we have while we are both in the Engine. I can't help but feel some of her pain as well.   
  
"_Ah, what the heck. With a little luck, you people will watch my back so I don't get killed, so what's the use of this goddamed media file anyway? You know what to do if I'm killed, though_." The voice of Patch through the speakers coughs uncomfortably. "_And if you find Kira.... tell her.... ah, screw it. I love her, and always will. Thanks, signing off, this is Lieutenant Patch Randell. And kid, keep your nose clean._"  
  
"Media file playback ended." Durandal states tonelessly.  
  
Alex clutches a small wooden box to her chest. "What do we do?"  
  
I close my eyes. I can't do this. But I have to. But I will. And I will.  
  
Why?  
  
Because it's the right thing to do.   
  
Through me, millions of other me's speak. Some of them fight, some of them hate with a vengeance, some bury themselves in the chill of emotionless combat... but I owe it to Patch.  
  
Sighing, I open my eyes again. "Let's do it. We owe it to the big guy."  
  
"Yeah." Alex holds me close, her tears forming small drops of damp cloth on my t-shirt. I pull my jacket tighter around me and check I still have the 'ashandarei'. "Let's do this."  
  
Concentrating, I draw a shape in the air with the tip of a finger. Energy runs through my hands like water from a tap, as the shimmering circle with a triangle in it widens, flashes once, and a portal opens. I feel it, and the direction is like a neon sign in my mind: #666 HADES.  
  
I turn to Alex, realising she is grasping my hand abnormally tightly.   
  
I smile, a simple gesture of comfort, but it means so much. As a result, she holds onto my hand tighter.   
  
"See you on the other side." She mutters.  
  
"You too."  
  
And with that, we step into darkness.

* * *

Unlike the uncontrolled, magical energy overload from last time when the Engine had been used without the Key, this time there was one gigantic pulse of silver energy, and then like that, it just stopped.   
  
Like a light had been flicked off in the room, the Engine's glowing cylinder of light went dark.  
  
Motioning for a couple of BlackOps to cuff Patch, Catherine Shaw walked over to the machine, gasping in shock as the smoke clears and the fiberglass cylinder is shown, empty.   
  
_ Empty._  
  
"DAMMIT!!!" Catherine yelled, as she kicked furiously at a stray piece of equipment, sending it skidding. She had her chance. Both of them were in the Engine, it was activated, there had been a window of opportunity there...  
  
And she had dropped it, let it sift through her fingers like fine sand, as the kid had created a Reality Window and disappeared from right under her nose, with another Rebel girl, the Dragon's Tear, and a whole box of summon materia!  
  
She was so gonna get fired for this.  
  
_Then a glint of silver caught her eye._  
  
It was none other than the silver shape of the triangle within a circle: the Dragon's Tear! She crowed in triumph, holding it up... as it crumbled to dust, much like a one-use materia when it was used up and returned to the earth whence it came.  
  
"DAMMIT!!!!!" Catherine howled in frustration.   
  
Patch, ankles and wrists cuffed, a plasma rifle aimed at his forehead, relieved of his shotgun, his 8 frag grenades, his thermos of nitro, his gatling gun, his Desert Eagle, his M41-A trooper issue combat knife, still managed to chuckle.  
  
In the corner, forgotten, Tara picked herself up, no longer crying, and snuck out of the room, hoping against hope that Rain was still alive...  
  
**  
  
END DISK ONE  
  
WOULD YOU LIKE TO SAVE? Y/N  
  
Y  
  
GAME SAVED  
  
FILE STORED  
  
PLEASE INSERT SECOND DISK  
  
**  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Holee crap. There goes the first disc: it's long, violent, and a little rough around the edges, but it'll do.  
  
About the disk system: many of you who have played Final Fantasy will know about the many freakin' discs in the PlayStation FF games. And how I kicked myself when I ended up losing one. Well, maybe not the second part anyway.  
  
Well, it's been a good ride. I have actually been so caught up in this story that I find myself coming back to the boarding house, blazing through my homework in as little time as I can (give or take a goddamned half hour), break out Lilith (my sweet, sweet baby), and end up writing late into the night.  
  
I would like to thank Square, for being such a master of the RPG genre, (dammit! I want a copy of Unlimited Saga!!!) my Windows Media Player, for downloading lots of cool choonz for me to listen to in my darkest moments, Lilith, for NOT CRASHING when I needed her the most (whee!) My pal Red, who started this entire crazy thing off anyway with the question "Why do we exist?", Ty, for offering cheerful, bouncy critisism and being a friend to bounce rants off during the school year, Nintendo, for creating the thing I like to call a Gamecube, and whoever the hell invented coffee.  
  
On a less personal note, I would like to thank AlphaBlades for reviewing this more than anyone else has (...sniff) and for giving me a rivalry that I have to actually work to beat. If you're reading this, Alpha, you are thanked more than words have the power to thank. Or something like that, anyway.  
  
And I'd like to tell everybody who enjoys this fic to hear this: Rain has been accepted as an original character in Thunder Unicorn Ixion's story: Daylight and Beyond! Whee! I hope TUI has fun writing him, the depressive antisocial hole Rain is.   
  
Enough on the Thank yous. My hands are just about to freeze to the keyboard, so I will stop soon, just as the last caffiene high wears off.   
  
The next disk will be written sometime during Christmas if I have the time - I'm going HOME!!! WHEEE!!! By this time next week, I'll be in Hong Kong writing the next chapter in this epic: disk two. I'm also working on a little something called "Demon Hunter eX", my Christmas project, just to take a break from writing the FFR universe once in a while.  
  
And before I forget: music. Xander thought long and hard about a list of music for the first disk. I looked over it and thought it was okay, so, whatever. All in all, I think this is a pretty good mix myself, played at the right moments.  
  
"Anniversary" - New Found Glory  
  
"Hello" - Evanescence  
  
"Burly Brawl" - Matrix Reloaded (Juno Reactor Vs Don Davis)  
  
"Fade" - Staind  
  
"Blurry" - Puddle of Mudd  
  
"Million Miles Away" - The Offspring  
  
"Through the Night" - (okay, my bad, it's the theme song from Outlaw Star)  
  
"Ich Will" - Rammstein  
  
"We Will Rock You" - Queen  
  
"Hash Pipe" - Weezer  
  
"Exodus" - Maksim  
  
"Bleed American" - Jimmy Eat World  
  
"Stay Together For The Kids" - Blink 182  
  
"Sing" - Travis  
  
"Break Stuff" - Limp Bizkit  
  
"Numb" - Linkin' Park  
  
"Freur Frei" - Rammstein  
  
"White Flag" - Dido  
  
Remember, emails at angelhawkstudioshotmail.com  
  
Email me if you want to talk about FFR, if you want help on your own story, or if you just want to bitch about life in general. Always here for you!  
  
Until next time, this is Chaos on Lilith at Angelhawk Productions (UK branch) and saying good fic, good night. Seeya!  
  
c.h.a.o.s.r.a.y.n.e  
  
7/12/03  
  
EDIT: Re-uploaded as shorter chapters as of 21/05/04  
  
"Well, that's another triumph for clean hands, a pure heart, a good soul... and automatic weapons." --Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. 


	11. DISK INTERMISSION: memories I

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
disk intermission: memories one  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
original concept redshadow  
  
**  
  
_Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory?_  
  
Two people, one male, one female, faced each other across the remains of Old New York.  
  
People ran screaming in fear as the city burned. Explosions rang through the air. Cars swerved to avoid other cars - disregarding pedestrians. A rusted, battle-scarred hovertaxi, travelling low, ran over a small girl. She screamed uselessly to no avail, as she was crushed under the gravity drives of the vehicle.   
  
Every man for himself.  
  
But the two people facing off did not so much as twitch. Even the fleeing people didn't get in their way.  
  
"We're all gonna die! We're all gonna fucking DIE!!!"  
  
Well, except for the occasional dumbass.  
  
The man's face twisted in distaste as the slightly drunk, most possibly drop-dead stoned raver clung to his cloak. Pulling his cloak away from the raver's grasp, he raised one hand. The raver immediately blossomed into a screaming human torch, running blindly into walls until the stampede of people tipped him over and trampled underfoot.  
  
The woman raised an eyebrow. "I think he stole your wallet while you weren't looking."  
  
The man laughed. "You really think money is going to be worth much now that the War has started? All that matters is food, beer, and weapons. The elements of life."  
  
The woman sighed, raising a gloved hand to her chin and tossing her long brown hair over one shoulder. "Stop being such a male chauvinist pig, and let's begin already."  
  
"As you wish." He reached for the Dragon Edge sword at his side. It slid silently out of the scabbard, and as he held it up, it caught the light of the fires behind him, giving the illusion he was holding a weapon of glittering flame.  
  
"Showoff." The woman muttered, and her caster's staff appeared in midair as if by magic. (okay, it probably was) A flash of energy shimmered around her as she drew it in a series of glittering arcs, drawing silver trails in midair.  
  
"Less talk, more fight." Said the man, and he lunged.  
  
The action was quick and furious, a series of blindingly fast swipes that were blocked, parried, or dodged. Twin flashes of silver met and met again, occasionally glancing off each other in small bursts of orange sparks.   
  
The female ducked backward, a foot sweep flooring the male, as the other countered with a jump, an elbow jutted into the woman's side, the man allowing the woman to jump inside his guard, counter again, a kick from the woman dazing him leaving him open for a staff strike to the ribs, knocked back, and...  
  
"Tri-Fire!"  
  
"Oh-ho. Resorting to spells again, are you?" The man grinned wildy as he jumped and rolled away from the colossal inferno that blazed out on the point of impact. He brought the woman to close combat again, their silhouettes dueling fiercely with each other as New York, the city of cities that hailed back to times when the first gravity drive was a nonexistent dream, when combustion engines and animals pulling carts were standard, continued to burn. A sign with the words 'America was born in the streets' lay in the dirt, trodden on by countless pairs of feet.   
  
A backflip, a switch-staff thrust, a flash of steel there to cut a body part that wasn't there, in his face, in her stomach, a blade caught between two palms...  
  
-his blade caught between two palms?  
  
The woman grinned, the deadly Ryuusabre held firmly between her palms. "You're slipping. Don't tell me you're going soft."  
  
"Not a chance." The man stood stock still, trying to force the blade down with every inch of his strength.   
  
"You're not concentrating hard enough." The woman kept the smile on her face, keeping the blade in her hands, and twisted her body so that she was leaning in close to the man, her back pressing against his chest.  
  
It was the opportunity that every trained hand-to-hand master looks for when fighting someone with a bladed weapon. The woman was one of those, so she did what came naturally - she leaned into the force of the blow, flicked her wrists up, and almost casually popped the Ryuusabre loose.  
  
The legendary sword flew several yards through the air to stick nearly half a foot into the ground.   
  
The woman sighed. "I win again."  
  
"So do it." The man glared at her, eyes glittering coldly. "Pay me back for what I've done."  
  
"You know I can't do that." The woman looked at him. "I still love you, you know? After all you've done. You've probably doomed the world. But I can't bring myself to kill you because I know who you really are."  
  
"Shut up and kill me." The man stared. "Will you hold me from my fate?"  
  
"No. But I can't kill you."  
  
The man sneered, helpless as he was, the end of the Ultima Caster Staff in his face. "You know what they called me, when I was still in the government business? The Dark Born. Inhuman, they called me. Demonspawn. And I live up to the name. Just end my life, it's not hard... You useless bitch. You haven't got the heart to kill me. You're too good even for that."  
  
The woman sighed, let her weapon vanish to wherever it had come from, and turned away. "I know. And I hate myself for it."  
  
"Well... too bad, because I have no compulsions about killing you."  
  
The woman whirled, but she was too late. In that second she realised how badly she had been duped. The fate of the worlds, the fate of millions of lives that had been and the lives to come, had been dumped in her hands, and she had lost it.  
  
"Yesss." The man hissed, the Dragon Edge sword at her throat, drawing a thin trickle of blood. "You've lost this time, Evita. Tell me... where is our son?"  
  
The woman struggled. "I'm not going to tell you, you heartless bastard. You'll just kill him as well. I can't let that happen."  
  
The dark haired man sighed. "Eve, Eve, Eve. Why would we want to save the universe? It's such a messed up place, anyway. Look at our world. People, every one of them screaming for their own thoughts and dreams, every one of them knowing, that the world will inevitably end."  
  
An impossibly white streak of light appeared on the night horizon, followed by two more. People running began screaming in fear. They knew what those points of lights meant, and feared them even more for it.  
  
"Look." The man said, pulling her head up roughly to face the night sky. "Isn't it beautiful? It's begun. The nuclear weapons are descending. The war to end all wars has begun."  
  
Tears streamed down the woman's face as she looked into the sky, on humanity's own weapons turned against itself - the ultimate irony. "Stop it. You have to stop them."  
  
"Why? Is your baby boy still in the city? Awwww... too bad he's about to be obliterated with what's left of this stinking city." The man cackled, running a hand through the woman's silky brown hair. "Good night." He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.   
  
The Dragon Edge's blade jerked backward and across, and with that, the woman known as Evita Starborn, one of the most powerful mages in the history of the world, breathed her last, her throat torn open and bleeding.  
  
The man laughed in his imminent victory, laughed and laughed. Humankind. They were destroying themselves. This was all going to end. End. Forever. And the universe would trouble him no more.  
  
He rose to his feet, dumping the body of Evita facedown in the dirt, and sheathed the still bloody Ryuusabre. It was the end of the world, after all - what was he doing worrying about a clean sword?  
  
He then became aware of a silent sobbing.   
  
For the man, time seemed to run in slow motion, as everybody continued to run past him, running nowhere, knowing they couldn't escape from the incoming nuclear death.  
  
But the sobbing was there. Despite all the screaming, all the explosions, he could still hear that crying.   
  
He swiveled to the source of the voice, moving faster than all the people around him, and his eyes grew wide and shocked. Michael J. Stevens, the man known as the Dark Born, stood afraid in the face of one crying old woman, holding the cloth-wrapped form of the child in her arms.   
  
She ran.  
  
The man followed, hurrying.  
  
Panting, running blindly through the streets. A scream is heard somewhere behind.  
  
Weeping and sobbing. Tears fall, human pain manifesting as drops of salt solution. And a baby begins to cry.  
  
"No time, no time..."  
  
The old woman kissed her charge one last time.  
  
"Time, space, bend..."  
  
The ground opened up in a portal of darkness and lightning. The woman looked one last time at the baby, then, as another explosion was heard behind her, she draped a blue stone on a silver chain around his neck.  
  
"..._Remove_!!!"  
  
The child was dropped into the portal, vanishing in an instant. It irised closed quickly. The woman collapsed on her knees as the spell drained her energies. The one known as the Dark Born walked up to the sobbing lady, silently.   
  
The woman finally notices, and crawls on her hands and knees to get away. But her exit is blocked, and she is forced up against a corner.   
  
In that moment, she sees the face of her murderer. She screams, but too late.  
  
The sword passes cleanly through her breast and comes out her back, still gleaming with the blood of its past victim.   
  
She looked so surprised, there at the end.  
  
_Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory._  
  
It is finished.

* * *

**Author's Ramblings:**

**Flashback sequence.**


	12. DISK II: Welc0m3 t0 h3ll

_Time._  
  
The passage of time seems paranormal at times, something we slammed a scale on to measure. Hours? Days? Years? All superficial, trying to control something we don't understand.  
  
Outside the raw fabric of the universe, _there is no time.  
_  
At least, nothing that comes close to it. There is no growth, no passage, no change over a length of units that we can possibly come close to understanding.  
  
The time I spent in the Engine is now only a blur to me, as long as I did. There was no measure of the length of time I spent in the machine, only a sense of time going on forever, a line into infinity.   
  
Only me, and Alex. We floated in nonspace, no gravity or any other worthless little rule of physics to hold us down. We were both aware of the distance we were travelling, but we didn't really care.  
  
The last time when we had been forcibly been removed from our home universe by use of a materia, it had been painful. Our bodies broken down into subatomic particles and reformed, it had been nothing short of pure agony. But this... travelling in a machine that was designed for me to control, through some subconcious means or whatever, I felt in complete control of everything.   
  
Alex's hand in mine, we flew through space (or lack thereof) and headed for that glowing point on the horizon that was the universe codenamed Hades. I didn't even think about it - my body being linked to the Reality Engine, I knew beyond all conviction what the Window to Hades would be like.  
  
After all, I was the Key. Me. Rain. A helpless, homeless orphan dreamer.   
  
I could hardly tell the difference between my dreams and my reality, now. It was like everything I had been experienced in my dreams was the sum total of all I felt in the Engine. It was the focus and the reason for me to exist.  
  
_I was the Key._

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY:  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: 1ne: w3lc0me t0 h3ll  
  
**

* * *

A pair of red-armored, blue-coated Imperial troopers heaved the slack body of a large man into a chair. Without any fuss, they quickly lasercuffed his hands and feet behind the chair, rendering him effectively immobile.  
  
He was also naked from the waist, being stripped of his black O7 vest armor and all his various implements of death-dealing. But his eyes were still alight with the fire of defiance, glaring hatefully up at his captors. "What, no dental?" He joked, showing off the muscles on his bare chest.  
  
The trooper on his left drew back a gauntleted fist and hit him hard, in the jaw.   
  
Patch spat something that felt suspiciously like bloody teeth out his mouth and rotated his jaw experimentally. At least it wasn't broken. "Is beating on helpless people the new industry for the oh-so-great Imperial Empire now?"  
  
The man hit him again.  
  
"Dammit!" Patch swore, with the result that the man hit him, again.  
  
"Enough." A voice spoke out of the darkness, distincly feminine. "We want him to be at least able to talk."  
  
Patch, his face a bloody ruin, peered into the shadows, trying to distinguish faces he could put names to. Blood trickled into his line of sight, running down off his forehead. "Izzat you, 'Doctor' Shaw?" He laughed crazily, half-concussed. "Tha's funny." He continued, his speech slurring.  
  
"What, I pray tell, is so hilarious that you can't stop laughing?" The shadow mage revealed her face, her voice dangerously low. "If you need me to remind you that you are now captured, helpless, and due for torture and interrogation, you are thicker than I thought."  
  
"Wha'ss..." He continued, the tiniest glimmer of surprise appearing in his hardened visage. "...whass happening tuh me...?"  
  
Catherine Shaw smiled, the first smile from her in over an hour. "The Ancients discovered and catalogued the various elements that made up this planet. They do come in all shapes or forms, you know." She laughed out loud, chillingly. "_Sodium pentathol._ Heard of it?"  
  
Patch's mind locked up. Truth serum...!  
  
"Should have taken effect by now." The nervous trooper flanking him on the right muttered. "Let's question him and get back to the City. There could be more of those goddamed Rebels."  
  
"My friend here is right." Catherine said, offering a coy smile at the trooper who had spoken. The poor man went as red as his armor. "We are running out of time."  
  
"Where have your friends gone? The children." She snapped, focusing the full force of her glare on the sole remaining member of the O7.   
  
Patch laughed all the louder. "I'sh dunno!"  
  
"I'll show you - " The trooper on the right, the one that had hit him before, raised his hand to hit the captive, only to have his fist caught by the scientist's palm.  
  
"Sit." Catherine hissed. "It's working. Unless you doubt the power of the truth drug? I can have some arranged to be used on you."  
  
The man mumbled something about women and resumed his position.  
  
"I'm ssho gunna fockin' keel youuu when I getsh outta herrre...." Patch gurgled, his eyes vacant and staring.  
  
"And how do you suppose you're going to do that?" Catherine turned her head to face him again. "You're in a heavily defended compound, held captive by unbreakable lasercuffs. What makes you think you can escape?"  
  
Patch didn't hesitate to reply. "Weelll... yoush know thoshe bombsh I put around the buildingsh? They'rr about to go _boooom!"_ He giggled happily.  
  
Catherine's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.  
  
Outside the Reality Engine installation, five innoculous crates of C4, with detonators planted earlier by the O7 operative, went straight up.  
  
The troopers to either side of him cursed as the shockwave, rumbling through the entire building, shook them off their feet and to the ground. Plasma rifles clattered across the floor.  
  
"Shit!" Catherine flung open the door to the outside. If the Engine was destroyed after all this time and effort - ! She ran for the Engine room, black cloak flapping behind her.   
  
"Damn." The weedy trooper to Patch's left spoke. "You smart sonovabitch!"  
  
Patch laughed catching sight of movement behind him. "G'bye guys."  
  
"Huh?" The trooper mumbled before a quick flash of silver whipped around his throat once, followed by a fountain of blood.  
  
The other reached for his gun, but was only a year too late as a sai knife buried itself in his back. He cried out in pain.  
  
"Whash took yooou sho long?" Patch muttered as he stood up, wiping blood from his chin with both cuffed hands. "Yoush let them fock me upsh!"  
  
Tara didn't reply. If anyone had noticed the look on her face, they would have categorized it as something between despair and sadness.  
  
"C'monsh. Let'sh get outta herre." Patch let the girl unlock his lasercuffs, and slammed open the door, picking up a plasma rifle from one of the fallen and pocketing his Desert Eagle. "That'll only hold them for sho long."  
  
Tara followed, face set.

* * *

A beam of pure white light flashed down through the skies of Universe #666 Hades, dumping two individuals forcefully into an already existing crater with the emblem of a triangle within a perfect circle.   
  
Rain got up, stretched, and helped Alex to her feet. "She's here all right. There was a Window already open here before - that's why it was so easy to get here."  
  
Alex stood up, checking her knife was still at her belt, along with its stock of several green materia. The wooden box Tara had tossed her as a final gift was firmly in her pack, and her blonde hair was held out of her face with a single braid. "Let's do this. For Patch."  
  
"For Patch." Rain echoed, checking his staff hadn't been damaged on the trip through the Engine.   
  
"So... any ideas where to start?"  
  
Rain didn't answer, choosing instead to look around him.  
  
The putrid stench of rotting flesh and garbage lingered in the air thick with ozone. A sky lit by a dying, red sun revealed little more than Rain could already feel - even more so than the world they had just come from, this was a dead planet. Sighing, he picked up a rusty old sign that had caught his eye as he scanned the landscape.   
  
Alex looked at the sign and at the desolate landscape dotted with occasional trash heaps. "I guess this is even farther ahead along the timeline of the last universe we were in."  
  
"Either that, or really messed up." Rain replied, remembering his first words upon seeing the world that Patch had seen. His heart fell. How was he supposed to find the woman they were looking for in a place like this?  
  
A rustling in the trash heap behind him caught his attention.   
  
Alex and Rain both whirled, weapons at the ready, to face one of the strangest sights they had ever seen.  
  
A featureless, humanoid black mass, that seemed to be made entirely of a shifting, constantly moving, black material that flowed like liquid but looked solid. Eyes that were little more than indents in the head, devoid of any expression whatsoever, gazed at the pair of SFMA cadets. It's upper body, supported by a thin torso, hunched over as if it was in pain, rose up straight to an impressive seven feet.  
  
Alex stared.  
  
Then it was moving, no,_ flowing_ towards them, inhumanly fast, as razor sharp, twisted black blades formed from 'arms' and it attacked.  
  
"What the hell is it?" Rain yelled, more in shock than surprise. Then he was dodging a swipe that would have taken off his head. Knowing what to do in a battle situation even if he knew about nothing lese, he parried the next blow with the blunt end of his staff. "Alex?"  
  
Alex was backing up already, as another one of the creatures forced her backward. It was much stronger than she was, and although she was faster, the way it moved very nearly took her off her guard. An attack she launched would not be dodged, but more like the thing flowed like liquid around the knife she held and reformed itself after the attack.   
  
"A little help here?" She muttered grimly, as her M41-A Zero-Seven trooper knife slashed through the formless thing for the seventh time, the only evidence it had ever done any damage was a small trail of black ichor on the edge of her blade.   
  
Rain was doing much better in comparison, as the single plasma blade of the ashandarei spear hissed every time it contacted alien flesh, obviously doing some harm. But he had still failed to land any solid blows, and the thing came a little closer to hitting him -   
  
- a long, razor edge whipped toward him, he twisted away, only to have a bit shaved off the edge of his combat jacket -   
  
Scratch that. Had hit him.  
  
"I LIKED that jacket!" He cursed as he swung the blunt end of his spear up, over, and straight down, landing his first real hit on the thing's head,  
  
Like a glass mask, the face shattered, and in its place, millions of razor sharp tentacles reached towards his flesh, ready to shred him like a Cuisinart on 'puree'.   
  
They bounced off a magical barrier, courtesy of one very pissed off blonde.   
  
"Like hell you will!" Alex grinned, reveling in her increased magical prowess. Behind her, a sticky black smear among the dirt was the only evidence the other one of the things had ever existed.   
  
The thing pushed against the magic, but this was a fight it could not win. It shifted into a blob instead, and began to cover the expanse that the Barrier spell protected.  
  
Alex let the magical forcefield drop, and released another spell, unaware of Rain behind her feeling incredibly useless. "Howling breath of winter, freeze the blood! Di-Ice!!!"  
  
"Not bad." Rain muttered, tapping the side of the large Popsicle that had formerly been an attacker. Then he twirled his staff around in several glowing blue arcs, and somersaulted over the large black chunk of ice once, dividing it into various bite-sized chunks.  
  
Alex smiled smugly. "It worked after all! I'm a mage!"  
  
"Whoop de friggin doo." Rain replied, emotionless. "Where do we go now? Durandal?" Fishing the handheld out of one jacket pocket, he keyed the 'on' switch and watched the Durandal test pattern scroll across the screen, followed by a long string of binary.  
  
Then the cyborg's voice pulsed out of the speakers. "Where are we?"  
  
"Welcome to Hades." The teenager muttered, deactivating his staff and slinging it over one shoulder. "Or, as anyone who knows a thing about mythology would say, hell."  
  
"Mythology..." Durandal was mystified. "What's mythology?"  
  
Alex palmed her forehead, coincidentally mopping it of sweat. "I think its part of the history of the people they call Ancients in your world."  
  
"Oh." Durandal replied, it being his day for short answers. He was still trying to get over the fact that there was marginally less filespace in the handheld computer than his original database: e.g. his own brain. Mental claustrophobia is not nice.   
  
"So how do we find this 'Kira'?" Rain repeated. "I mean, don't they have dog tags or tracking devices on your world?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes." The computer program that was all that was left of the human David J. Skye replied. "All troopers, Imperial nonexcepting, have an implant in their bodies that allow their own force to track them. Imperial attempts to find the Rebels in this way were unfruitful as the Rebels used a frequency unknown to them."  
  
"...I... see." Rain lied. "So, are you saying we can find her?"  
  
"Yes." Durandal answered, all one word answers again.   
  
"Rain!"  
  
"What is it, Alex?"   
  
"I... think you should take a look at this."  
  
The SFMA cadet whirled. "What? I'm trying to get the stupid computer to... to...."  
  
He stared as the dark smear on the ground that had been one of the things that attacked them reformed itself into a humanoid shape. It flowed over to the one that was intermingled with large handfuls of crushed ice and became a bigger monster, the remains of two being able to merge.  
  
"...I resent that..." Durandal muttered.  
  
"I'll take it back if you have any bright ideas." Alex whispered. The earpiece comlink she still wore was whisper-sensitive, after all, and there was no real need to yell.   
  
None at all.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." The computer replied. "...Processing."  
  
Rain sighed. "Does it take you that long to come up with a plan? I mean, here's one for a good plan. RUN!!!"  
  
And he did, Durandal held firmly in one hand, his plasma spear in the other. Alex followed, scrabbling up and over the pile of trash.

* * *

Wow.   
  
I guess they weren't really joking when they called this place Hades.   
  
I mean, in the other universe we only got kidnapped by a small rebel force. That was bad enough - if we had to be kidnapped, I preferred to be on the winning side. In this one we get attacked by two... things within five minutes of landing - things that had the power to merge with each other and apparently were very concerned about making Alex and I into one very messy raw human salad.  
  
Think about that for a minute.  
  
Ew.  
  
No, don't stop to think, just RUN!!!  
  
I leapt up and over, just clearing the Big Pile o' Junk (tm), Alex seconds behind me, blonde hair flying from the chase.   
  
But the thing was just behind, using that odd movement that could only be described as flowing. Because that was what it did. It just basically stated 'screw all the arms and legs and other things that humans need' and went liquid, crashing against the top of the pile of crap like a wave breaking over a stone.  
  
I dashed down, frantically trying to clear some more ground, when I heard a yell behind me as Alex tripped and fell, caught on something.  
  
Dammit. You have to be noble, don't you? You have to save the girl from the thing or whatever, and... screw it. I turned and struggled up the junk slope, just as the black flowing thing caught up to her.  
  
Then two things happened.  
  
One: the iridenscent blue slash and the zap of a plasma discharge hit me as about the same time a plasma bolt impaled the thing. The thing made a sort of keening sound that could only vaguely be described as screaming, as it had no mouth to scream out of. It was still a freakin' horrible noise.  
  
Two: Alex turned on her heel, facing backwards, even as she was trapped, and let loose a spell that blasted a short-range bolt of ice at the thing.  
  
Ice hit only a second before plasma bolt did.  
  
I looked at the larger, holey Popsicle and fought down a bad joke.  
  
Instead, I contined to Alex's side, and saw her ankle, cut open and swollen. The culprit was none other than a tin can.  
  
"People shouldn't leave their junk out here. It's a health hazard." I said, watching her flick a short Cure spell into the leg. It healed instantly.  
  
She grimaced, so I offered her a hand up. She took it gratefully. Then we both turned to look at the newcomer.  
  
The newcomer was youthfully female, sporting a single-braided dusky brown ponytail and something that may or may not have been the remains of a bodysuit. A charging hip holster held a plasma pistol, and further along the midriff, a knife hung that could have been identical to Alex's M41-A but looked so modified it was hardly anything like the original. A short jacket, torn and ripped at the edges, added to the flair. A pair of slender hands ended in fingerless gloves with what looked like materia grooves. None of the small green orbs are present, however.  
  
An artist with the 'wear and tear' idea of dressing.  
  
"Who are you?" She called, in a clear voice that could be used to cut diamond. "Don't get anybody out here much often, in the Waste."  
  
Alex pokes me in the ribs, but I still answer. "I'm... not from around here." I hope that answer was good enough, anyways. "We're looking for some woman called Kira Highwind. You heard of her?"  
  
Something that could have been recognition flashed across the girl's face, but was quickly replaced with a look of casual indifference. "What's it to you?"  
  
"The name's Rain. She's Alex." I do the honors of introduction, having a new resolution of being the 'nice guy'. Maybe my little trip into the Engine changed me more than I thought.  
  
The woman doesn't answer. "You'd better come with me before it starts snowing. Once it gets cold out here, it gets cold. Been like that for years."  
  
"Really?" Alex asks, unable to keep her curiousity down. "What's this place called?"  
  
The girl flicks her braid over her shoulder. "This used to be some old Ancient city. Now its just a junkheap for the scavengers in Tribe Omega."  
  
"Where...?" Alex continued, but I remember the sign. The sign written in a language I knew what looked like, but had no real knowledge of.  
  
I can't stop myself from blurting it out. "Russia."  
  
The girl laughs. Her accent is strange, something I can't really place.  
  
"No. Close, though. This city... this mess... we call it Yahl Russa." 


	13. DISK II: 4n1m4t3 0bj3ct5

Those empty, soulless black eyes seem to stare at me from every crevice and shadow as we travel on, the dark-haired girl in front nearly sprinting. I have to work hard to catch up with her. Alex has no such problem - she is a track star, after all.   
  
I almost fall over some particulary unsteady junk, but catch myself with my staff just in time. I am silently thankful for the gift Alex and Tara had given me - it seems almost customized for my use.   
  
But Tara...  
  
She was a traitor. She had lied to us, letting us believe she was just an ordinary tech thief. She was an assassin after all.   
  
Her presence had doomed Patch.  
  
But she... had been reluctant to kill us. No, not us. Me. She couldn't bring herself to kill me.   
  
Not for the first time, I stop for two seconds to catch my breath, also mulling over that thought in my mind. Why could she not kill me? I had seen her coldly dispatch other men to their deaths... but she couldn't kill me.   
  
Well, I had spared her life, unintentionally or no, by diving in the way of a bullet that would have killed her.  
  
Anger seethes through my mind. I shouldn't have saved her. She was a spy and assassin. Lies. All lies. Her name probably wasn't even Tara. Lies, every one of them, and I had fallen for them; hook, line, and sinker.   
  
No.   
  
She had remained true to us, after a fashion. At the end, she had defended all our lives with her own, duelling with that damned Imperial mage and flinging around more magic than I had ever seen (Which wasn't much, but was still damned impressive).   
  
But I had let her grow closer to me. She probably didn't even like me, she did it to gain our trust, sink into the tight-knit little triangle that was the only Rebel force that particular world had left. She was nothing more than someone who was willing to whore herself to do her job.  
  
And for that, I hated her.   
  
Rage hissed like a wave of boiling hot foam that threatened to spill over. Concentrating hard, I managed to push it to the back of my head as I did with all unwanted emotion. It dimmed, weakened, but not forgotten.  
  
The anger left me, and in its place was me, pure, distilled, weak, hollowed and beaten.  
  
Nothing more than an animate object. Nothing more.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: 2wo: 4n1mat3 0bject5  
  
****

* * *

**  
"Come on, hurry." The girl laughed as Alex struggled to keep up with her breakneck pace. "The snow will start soon, and we don't want to be caught out here in the Waste forever."  
  
Alex nodded, panting for breath and watching Rain use his staff to vault up to their position. "...what's your name again? ...Didn't... didn't catch it the first time."  
  
The girl laughed again, a musical sound. "I didn't give it." Athletic form barely disguising rippling muscle beneath the feminine shape, she was every inch the brash individual. "The name's Ky. Short for Kyrina, although I hate that name."  
  
"...Yeah..." Alex muttered. "What were... those... things that attacked us?"  
  
Ky chuckled. "Oh, they're just the Anima."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Anima. Explain later - the bastards come out mostly at night. We'd better get back to the tribe." She sped off again, nearly vanishing into the darkness.  
  
Rain pulled himself up. "Find out anything?"  
  
Alex mopped sweat from her brow. "Not much. I can see this much, though." She gestured to the form of Ky slipping through the shadows. "She moves like a pro."  
  
"You got that right." Rain slicked sweat-damp black hair from his brow. "Knows how to use a plasma pistol, as well."  
  
"What were those... things?" Alex shuddered involuntarily at the mere memory of those shapeless, formless beasts that had attacked us, all cold precision, no emotion.  
  
"No idea." Rain did not comment on the fact that the way the things had fought reminded him of himself. "Maybe you should ask her."  
  
Alex sighed, and took off after the female form, skulking noiselessly in the shadows. "Take your time."  
  
Rain swore as the other two were soon yards ahead of him. "Dammit." He slung his spear over his back and followed the girls, just as silently but at a slower pace. Then he started moving faster when he realised it was snowing.  
  
Snowing.  
  
Not just little dinky useless snowflakes that were just enough to cover the ground once. It was falling thick and fast in a flurry of clumps, coating the landscape in a ghostly, pastel white.   
  
The teen zipped up his combat jacket to his neck and hurried on, leaving crunching footprints in the snow.  
  
It wasn't long before Alex, following the nondistinct impressions left in the snow by the girl before her, caught a glimpse of lights, glowing brightly in the relative darkness. Cold as it was, the blonde SFMA cadet thought that throwing herself into the fire before her would be too unrestrained. So she hugged herself, moving as close as she could to the flickering yellow flames as she could without getting torched.  
  
Rain struggled over a last dune of assorted junk and piled snow, and looked at the pitiful collection of humanity huddled around the fires, sheltered by the collapsed remains of what could have once been a skyscraper.   
  
This, then, was Tribe Omega, the last sizeable population on Earth. This Earth, anyways.   
  
A gaunt man with a grin that showed both his cheekbones met them as they drew closer, dirty brown dreadlocks crusted with frost. He nodded politely to Kyrina, but didn't even acknowledge the other two, his eyes passing over them quicker than thought. Reaching for a grimy mug where some drops of water that wasn't ice still remained, his eyes flicked greedily over the knife next to Alex's hip and the materia it housed. Or maybe it wasn't the knife he was leering at.  
  
Rain met him with a look of casual indifference, albeit one that was spoiled by the fact that he shivered slightly at the cold. The man kept the smile on his face, wearing a thick, ratty coat that did the job of keeping him warm.  
  
Later, Rain basked in the warmth of the fire, accompanied by an old woman who was halfway toothless and for some reason seemed to take a great interest in his weapon. He had to drive her away some time later for trying to steal the plasma cells from the staff.   
  
The side facing the fire felt like it burned while his back felt like it was freezing. He shook his head, trying to dispel the image of being burned and frozen simultaneouly. Geography still held, and this was Russia in winter. Given that this was another universe where nuclear war had come and gone, this would probably be a nuclear winter.  
  
Alex chatted amiably with Kira, not noticing when the gaunt man from earlier took a seat on her other side.  
  
"How long you been here...?" Alex asked before realising that doing so would have been a breach of privacy and nearly stopped.   
  
Kyrina, for her part, shrugged. "I dunno. About two, three months? Everything's a blur beyond that. Eric here..." She pointed at the thin man, who was still grinning like a loon. "...found me in the Waste. He brought me here. I can't remember anything from before..."  
  
Alex decided to change the subject, as she was anxious to make up from her blunder from earlier. "What were those things that attacked us? I mean, I've never seen anything like it."  
  
Kyrina grinned. "They're the formless essence of a spirit given flesh."  
  
"Say what?"  
  
The other girl sighed and tapped Eric on the shoulder. "She wants to know about the Anima. Tell her."  
  
Alex looked with more than a little trepidation at Eric, with his dreadlocks, teeth on the verge of going rotten, and breath that could wake the dead. "Are you sure...?"  
  
Eric stopped smiling. "The Anima... they're bad business, no doubt about it." He paused for a while, then ejected a wad of spittle as large as a small oyster into the fire, where it sizzled for a while. Alex looked mortified.   
  
"...Oh man, that's gross." She tried. But Kyrina seemed used to this sort of behaviour. The dreadlocked tribe scavenger continued his story.   
  
"Years ago, when we was still strong... there was a big science project goin' on." His eyes misted over as he remembered the time. "Somethin' to do with magic an' stuff. Ya know the Death spell?"  
  
Alex shook her head.   
  
"Well, it crushes the spirit of the person it were cast on. The science dumbasses thought they could mess with the magic, so they could take the soul out of someone and put it somewhere else. You followin'?"  
  
Alex paused. "You mean, like that project to put brains in other people?" She blurted it out before she could help herself, yet again. She almost forgot that Project Blueshift was from another universe.  
  
To her surprise, he answered.  
  
He nodded. "Somethin' like that, yep. But they were messin' with the very lifeforce of people and summat... Long story short, they failed." He took a swig from his dirty glass. "They created a by-product through spare soul energy - the lack o' emotion that we now call the Anima."  
  
For all her mistakes, the SFMA cadet was interested. This was unheard of... but then again, who had ever heard of magic from her home reality, anyway? Offhandedly, she glanced down at the materia in her knife...  
  
...wait a second. Wasn't there an Ice, a Fire, and a Bolt spell there along with the junctioned Cure...  
  
She caught Eric with one hand in his pocket, about to sneak another materia off her knife. Kyrina burst into laughter as Alex grabbed the hand, moved her center of gravity, and threw the greasy scavenger into an nearly flawless double axel.   
  
Eric landed on his back, and cursed as a few small green orbs tumbled from his pockets. The SFMA cadet picked them up and clicked them back into place on her knife. Kyrina looked at the weapon strangely before drawing her own.   
  
"These knives... they look similar." She muttered, resisting the urge to ask why.  
  
The answer came, though. "It's an M41-A Zero-Seven trooper knife." Alex said, unaware that visitors from another universe would not neccessarily be welcome. "Yours looks different, though." She pointed at Kyrina's slightly longer weapon, the grip lengthened, and the carbon-titanium alloy extended nearly three whole inches.  
  
"Modded it." Kyrina replied. "I think it looked like yours... once. I don't know... this seems part of something I used to know..."  
  
There was a beeping noise from Alex's pocket, and she withdrew the handheld computer. Eric crowded greedily over her shoulder.   
  
"Whoa. A palmtop. Ain't seen one of those in bloody years." He grumbled. "And in good condition, too."  
  
Then the typical Durandal test pattern appeared on the screen, followed by David's calm voice, which was for some reason abnormally scrambled by static this time.  
  
"zzzkkktssh... Al...ZKKkkkkKK...Alex?"  
  
Alex shook her head. "What've you got?" Ignoring the wide-eyed stare Eric was giving the handheld, she grimaced at the thought of some scavengers ripping the small computer to shreds for components. "Found the woman we're looking for yet?"  
  
"SSSsssssSSSs...." The speakers hissed. "...SKKkkkkks...she's close." The static stopped entirely, and the voice became clear as crystal. "Reading signals from implant less than two feet away from you."  
  
The blonde swung the palmtop in a wide, sweeping arc, the sensor camera on top beeping softly over the crackle of the flames. The beeping became a high-pitched whine as the sensor stopped, pointed straight at 'Kyrina'.  
  
Alex's eyes widened.   
  
Within seconds, Rain was beside her, having being commed through his earpiece, which was miraculously still intact. "She's the woman?"  
  
Alex didn't respond, still looking at Kyrina, who was nonchahalantly downing the contents of a small glass bottle that smelled strongly of alcohol. "She's too young."  
  
"How would you know?" Rain shot back. "You're 17 and can kill several armed people in just as many seconds. She could be this mage after all."  
  
"We haven't seen her use any magic..."  
  
"Well then, Alex. Why don't you throw a fireball at her or something like that? I'm sure she would find some way of retaliating that would prove her a mage."  
  
Alex nearly let rip a violent reply reinforced with muscle, but thought better of it as she recognised the emotion running through Rain's face.   
  
He was jealous.  
  
All he had used so far was the dual-ended plasma staff, that had been lost during his brief stint as captive punching bag, a length of pipe, the short-lived Chaos mech that he had called 'Bob', and now the 'ashandarei'. He had never shown so much as a glimmer of magical capability, and he knew it.  
  
She smiled inwardly. It was good to know the emotionless killer that she knew Rain had inside him had feelings like jealousy that he shared with the rest of the human race. It made him seem more... human.  
  
By way of reply, she reached over to Kyrina's heavily modified M41-A and ran her fingers along one of the grooves designed for placing materia. "Do you know what these are for?"  
  
Kyrina nodded, head spinning from the effects of the drink. "...they're for magic."  
  
Alex nodded. Good gosh, she had only started learning this stuff when Tara had begun teaching her, and that was just before she had been revealed as an Imperial assassin. But now here she was, asking a supposedly incredibly powerful mage about basic spell info.   
  
"You show us any?"  
  
Then all hell broke loose, effectively stopping any further discussion.

* * *

The scavenger camp was based mostly on the bottom floors of two collapsed skyscrapers. It wasn't much, but it kept the worst of the wind and snow out without being too much of a beggar 'hole in the ground'.   
  
There wasn't much of 'Tribe Omega', after all. From a quick estimate, about seventy or so people huddled in small scattered groups around the few fires, some chatting, most trying to catch some Z's.   
  
So they were pretty much completely and totally unprepared when a shadow dropped from the ceiling and exploded in a mass of gleaming black blades and ribbonlike razor-sharp pseudopods.   
  
Three humans didn't even have time to scream before they were shredded in a violent spray of blood, one tried to crawl away, yelling for help, but none was given. Her leg caught in a barrage of black shapelessness, the Anima dragged her back and ripped her in half.  
  
"Shit!" The dreadlocked man called Eric muttered, hand reaching for a metal baseball bat. "How the hell did it find us here?"  
  
Alex had already drawn her knife. "We have to stop it! ...Ice!" A spell quickly encased the attacking blob in a large chunk of frozen H2O, but more shadows formed from the walls and slithered, forming their humanoid shapes again.  
  
Women screamed, backing away from the things.   
  
Mumbling about the worst types of situations, I drew my plasma staff, activating the single blade. The blue glow was comforting in the darkness otherwise lit mostly by fires.   
  
"Let's rock." I muttered. I saw Ky stand up and draw her plasma pistol, firing hard as the one nearest me whipped a long, tentacular arm at her.   
  
Blue plasma tore gaping chunks out of the arm. I sidestepped it, allowing it to pass me, then in one smooth motion the edge of my plasma blade severed the offending appendage. The tentacle writhed around for a bit before flopping to the floor uselessly, going back to liquid form.  
  
Alex grinned. "On form?" She ducked under another slash, and parried another. "These things got any weaknesses?"   
  
Kyrina yelped as a series of black darts chewed up the floor. "A hell of a lot of violence... I don't know about magical weaknesses!"  
  
I agreed silently as I watched Eric yell a curse and slam his baseball bat into another menacing black form. It crumpled like a split balloon. Others grabbed burning logs from the fire and swung them in a desperate attempt to ward off the shadows.   
  
One lunged for me, and in a fit of desperation I swiveled, kicked off a wall, and came down in a slash that would have split it into two equal pieces. It did split into two equal pieces - however, they formed two smaller, individual things.  
  
I cursed, twisting in midair to slam a booted foot into one, sending it flying. Eric got the other, blood streaming down his face, yelling like some sort of deranged madman.   
  
"Di-Bolt!" I heard Alex yell, and one that was about to drop on me from above sucked electricity.   
  
Kyrina grinned woozily, still half-drunk. "You call THAT a Bolt spell? Ha!"  
  
Alex's eyebrow twitched, but the only motion she made was to jump sideways out of the path of an attacking black blob and in front of another, shielding two scared children behind her.   
  
Kyrina took what I had come to know as a basic caster's stance, arms outstretched, weapon held forward. She flicked a glittering green orb up in an arc, and adjusted herself so that the single materia clicked itself right into the breech of the plasma pistol she sported as it fell. Twirling the gun around her index finger and catching it in a firing position, she readied a spell. Hairs rose on the back of my neck at the powerful buildup of magic.  
  
"Fierce powers of nature, absolute raw anger of the heavens, unleash destruction upon all infidels! _Tri-Bolt!"_  
  
Ky literally glowed with crackling blue electricity, hovering a foot or so off the floor. A single hand outstretched, and a massive wave of electrical power pulsed outward, energy frying the few shapeless, twisted black forms unlucky enough to be caught.  
  
Alex fell to the floor in relief as the Anima in front of her sizzled away to nothing and exploded in a spray of black droplets.   
  
"...holy shit." She murmered dazily. She watched as I dispatched the final Anima, sizzling plasma blade engulfing it in a whirlwind of slashes, dicing it up faster than it could reform. "I think she's the one."  
  
Kyrina turned on her. "What?"

* * *

Only a universe away...  
  
"Hey, what's bugging you?" Patch couldn't resist asking. "You were never this quiet when the others were around."  
  
Tara didn't answer immediately. Reddish-auburn hair hid her eyes. She slumped, arms hugging her knees, silent and dejected. After a few more seconds of Patch's expectant silence, she answered. "I sold you out from the beginning, you know that?"  
  
Patch grunted.  
  
They had hijacked an Imperial armored truck and had driven it out, the base's defenses still in disarray from when Rain, with Bob and DA-00001, had crashed the party. Not to mention the power was still pretty much cut.   
  
No more mishaps had ended in them driving a few hundred miles before the truck had run out of fuel, still having a combustion engine instead of a plasma drive or even a newfangled mana generator. They had run, and when they couldn't run any more, they walked, and when they couldn't walk, they crawled.  
  
It was a day later when they had arrived near an area populated by trees that offered shade, and more importantly, relative radar safety. The two figures, haggard and weakened, had finally stopped, where Patch had treated Tara's wounds military-style. To her credit, she didn't scream.  
  
Camping open-air next to a small stream running through the forest was the next step, as neither of them was in any shape to travel, much less travel with a world superpower trying to hunt you down and kill you.   
  
"You people took me in as one of your own. I betrayed all of you."  
  
Patch grunted again, trying Tara's patience. He leaned back, using his long gatling gun as an impromptu pillow. "You didn't do it."  
  
"What?" Tara muttered, tonelessly. "I led you all into a trap, I assisted in your capture, I nearly killed Rain..."  
  
"Unless I'm much mistaken," Patch grunted, ignoring the hunger pangs in his stomach. "...your mission was to capture the Key and kill the rogue rebels."  
  
Tara nodded, stabbing small furrows in the soft mossy ground with one of her sai knives.   
  
"...Then you have failed your mission." Patch's face broke into a smile. "An assassin is only an assassin if he does his job."  
  
"...You have no idea." Tara hissed coldly, flinging her sai into the ground with such force that it sunk hilt-deep. "I was the best of the best. Highly paid, professional, so good at doing my job that I had a success rate of 97%. I wasn't supposed to fail!"  
  
Patch turned to face her. "Then why didn't you kill us right away? You had plenty of chances. I was knocked out cold when you first joined us. Alex trusted you. Even Rain, suspicious little brat that he is, trusted you. I'm not sure about Durandal, though."  
  
"I...." Tara bit back a reply, as to divulge that information to Patch would have meant admitting that she was in love with Rain. That little piece of information was something she had only told Shiva, the guardian of ice. "...I couldn't do it. After the way you trusted me."  
  
"...?" Patch asked, a quizzical expression on his face, that picture saying a thousand words.   
  
Tara closed her eyes. "You and the other two offered me something I haven't had in a long, long time."  
  
"What's that?" The big, last remaining member of the O7 asked.  
  
The redhead paused, and her eyelids creaked open, very nearly shedding tears all over again. "...Friendship." 


	14. DISK II: c0mpL1c43d

A figure in the tattered remains of a black bodysuit and a short leather jacket knocked back a small bottle and drained it, chugging deeply. The bottle clattered to the floor, empty. A holstered plasma pistol hung limply at the figure's loose gunbelt,   
  
"Look, Alex, why don't you tell me one more time why you think she's the person we're looking for?"  
  
"You saw her cast that spell! She's clearly more powerful than I am, or even Tara - "  
  
The SFMA cadet pulled up short as Rain glared into her eyes, furious. "Do NOT mention her name. I never want to hear that name again. Do I make myself quite clear?"   
  
Alex sighed. "She's in another universe now. You can't keep obsessing over the fact that we were all betrayed."  
  
Rain brushed her off casually. "What were you saying before we got into this?"  
  
The blonde shook her head in defeat. "She's the woman Patch sent us here to get. She's Kira Highwind!"  
  
"Kira?" Rain said in disbelief. "Her name's Kyrina, and she's supposed to be a lot older. According to this..." He tapped the cool metal surface of the handheld computer, "...isn't she supposed to be about the same age as Patch?"  
  
"Younger." Durandal's now-tinny voice rang from the speakers. "Zero-Seven operative Kira Solarion Highwind, age 26, skilled in various forms of elemental magic and espionage tactics. Considered to be highly dangerous by the Imperial militia. No other data."  
  
"So?" Alex said. "I mean, nobody fully understands what the heck traveling between universes does to you, anyways. Maybe some sort of time-shift..."  
  
Rain showed her the back of his right hand. "This was all it did to me." The design of the triangle within the circle is burned black against his skin, clearly visible. "And look at her! She's supposed to be this power-heavy mage character! And she's... a drunk!"  
  
Kira waved drunkenly. "Thass' me." Her russet eyes were glazed and unfocused.  
  
"Okay." Rain said after a moment's pause. "Supposing she is the one. What do we do now?"

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: thr3e: c0mp1ic4t3d  
  
**

* * *

A universe away...  
  
A blue-coated Imperial guard, flanked by two red-armored Imperial troopers, scanned the MEDUSA assembly line, checking everything was proceeding as planned. It was for the most part, a line of workers and techs sweating as they assembled the machines of war. The MEDUSA were not high-maintenance, unlike the Chaos type of mecha used by the Rebel force that had formerly existed upon this particular world. Most MEDUSA could go for years without checks, and moreover, they could be fitted with basic programmable droid brains where human pilots were considered more expensive.   
  
However, these MEDUSA in particular had one weakness - they were not completed. Red eyes in draconian heads were dim, armor plating was only half fitted, weapons lay discarded around the decks.   
  
Renaku smiled grimly as he looked on the MEDUSA (Type Alpha, basic armored infantry assault variation, if one wanted to be precise) knowing all of it to be useless instead the Key to the Reality Engine was uncovered. And all of the blame for this lay on one person.   
  
"Lord Renaku, please, give me another chance!"  
  
Pitiful. Catherine had failed - the first time by letting Lieutenant Patch Randall escape with the Key, and the second time by allowing the awoken Key to use the Engine to travel out of their grasp. Not to mention that Lieutenant Patch had also managed to escape yet again.  
  
Renaku's grip tightened on the hilt of his katana. Fools. The whole lot of them. Where were the MEDUSA to be used if the gateway to a whole new world could not be controlled?  
  
A new world. An entire new universe to control and conquer. Renaku's mind whirled with the possibilities. But for now... this scum had to be dealt with. Looking at Catherine much like the same way anyone else would look at a particularly unpleasant strain of vermin, he kicked out with a booted foot, nailing her in the jaw.  
  
She went down, a thin trickle of blood running from her mouth. Kneeling on the floor, she reached out to him one last time... hoping against hope, knowing that there was none...  
  
Renaku let his sword slide out of his scabbard in one clean motion and with a sound of metal on metal. Charging his weapon with dark energy, he lifted it above her head, ready to end her worthless life.  
  
Then the assembly line (and a sizeable half of the assembly factory) went straight up.  
  
The Rebel traitor wobbled, losing his balance, and was knocked down. His sword fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor, skidding metres to land underneath some machine of unknown origin.  
  
Patch smiled, gently caressing the detonator he had just jammed. "Not a bad night's work."  
  
"It's not over." Tara gestured to one mecha that had somehow been activated and was just turning towards them. It was only half-finished, however. Wires sprouted where sheets of titanium composite armor should have been.  
  
Patch rubbed his chin, and cradled his plasma rifle, a new addition since he had been deprived of his old shotgun. "Take care of it, see what else we can salvage. Topside in fifteen minutes? I still got three more charges to set off."  
  
Tara nodded, and ducked behind the nearest available cover as the scattered Imperial guards rallied and a hail of blue plasma energy filled the air. "Leave me one, will you?"  
  
"No prob." The big man grunted as he caught sight of Renaku's familiar face, now clad in the black and red armor of the Imperial BlackOp Elite. "I have some real personal stuff to get back to."  
  
He took off, as Tara worked her way from behind cover and let rip with a powered-up Fire spell. She couldn't get them all, but she could damn well try.  
  
An Imperial guard screamed as he was engulfed in flame, running around and adding to the chaos. Tara took advantage of the reprieve of plasma flying towards her to get in close and personal, diving forward, sliding along the floor to come in a low sweeping kick that sent her up and one of the enemy troopers down. An elbow strike to his face that smashed in his visor ensured he stayed down.   
  
Before his head had bounced once from the impact of hitting the floor the professional assassin was already off him and moving, an Ice spell from one hand and a Bolt in the other, troopers freezing or twitching where they stood respectively.   
  
The activated MEDUSA screeched and lunged forward, a loose piece of machinery rattling from where it had been disengaged before in the still incomplete mecha.  
  
Tara didn't flinch, leaping up and somersaulting over the rush, letting the MEDUSA accidentally crush two of the red-armored Imperial guards in its headlong rush. Landing in a crouch on its back, she spied the emergency release handles on the back of the thing, and pulled hard.  
  
Explosive bolts hissed and blew, sending the back cockpit hatch up and out, Tara going with it, using it like a skateboard to flip around in midair, grind off the now defunct assembly line, and jump off the hatch to land a flying kick on a poor unsuspecting Imperial Guard.  
  
Landing beside him, the assassin dropped a small, beeping device into his pocket, grabbed him in a roll, and flung him into the MEDUSA.  
  
It was then revealed that the small, beeping device that Tara had placed in the guard's pocket was none other than a CP-54 high explosive armor-piercing antipersonnel fragmentation grenade.  
  
Guard and MEDUSA both went boom, Tara already moving on out of the facility, long gone.  
  
Patch was having his own little happy time. Dropping on a normal everyday raid on a MEDUSA factory and finding his very own traitor to exact his perfectly justified revenge on was fun.  
  
Renaku was not pleased to see the hulking form of Patch, however. Seeing the Rebel trooper's winning smile and the plasma rifle in his hands was the perfect end to a not nearly so perfect life.  
  
"Long time no see." Patch rumbled. "How you been? Seen any enemies, killed any old friends lately?"  
  
"A few." Renaku replied gamely, while thinking that this was the worst possible time to be caught without his sword. "You?"  
  
"Same here... burned a few o' my own bridges... I guess you have been busy." Patch said airily. "You know, I thought it would be a lot less pleasurable seeing you this helpless. So, I said... let me give you a shot. Just one."  
  
"Really?" Renaku said, keeping his cool. "You'd be that generous?"  
  
Patch tossed his plasma rifle away, ejecting the plasma core and tossing it somewhere behind him, where it erupted in a small flare of unstable blue energy. "A fair fight. You an' me. C'mon, take your best shot, you fuckin' traitor, 'cause its the only one you ever gonna get."  
  
Renaku moved.  
  
A gauntleted fist, fast as lightning sunk below Patch's guard and buried itself into his midsection, but the big man did no so much as move.  
  
"Body armor." Patch grinned. "Remember the O7 classic issue? Though I daresay you've swapped it for your fancy new BlackOp getup."  
  
Not even bothering to reply, Renaku let his other arm fly, a punch aimed straight at his enemy's face. There was a sharp crack, and Patch's head shifted ever so slightly.  
  
The traitor wrung his hand. The jaw was almost as bad as the body armor!  
  
"You're gonna pay for that, you fucker." Patch murmured as he twisted his body up into a kick that Renaku easily dodged, moving his body backwards and away from the force of the blow.   
  
"You think so?" Renaku smiled. Hand-to-hand unarmed combat was not something he excelled in, but he always had an advantage... His left hand brushed across a switch on his right gauntlet...  
  
...and his fist came to life, crackling with electricity. Blue energy flaring, he waited for Patch to attack again. This time, he caught the punch in a pincer grip, using the force of the blow to catch the attacker off guard.  
  
The last remaining O7 trooper grimaced as electricity shot up his spine, transferred through the caught punch. Desperately, he tried to wring his hand free of the iron grip, but Renaku held tight, not letting go.  
  
Smoking and twitching, Patch fell to the ground, cursing bloody murder.  
  
"It is inevitable. Why do you resist?" Renaku smiled, retrieved his sword, and lunged, preparing to finish the remnant of the O7 once and for all.  
  
A shadow shifted around him and konked him in the back of the head. Unceremoniously, he fell on his face.   
  
Catherine was behind him, Magnum cocked and ready from where the butt of the gun had been used to knock him forward. Patch grinned.  
  
"You really should... make more trustworthy friends..." Patch said, gritting his teeth, willing his body to move.  
  
"Shell!" Renaku screamed, and the bullet was deflected ever-so-slightly by the magical field, only clipping his hair. He rolled and came up, sword glistening hilt-to-blade with glowing green materia. "You have really pissed me OFF!" A simple Float spell allowed him to move up and above the chaos, hanging in midair, almost an ethereal figure.  
  
Patch regained control of his body and dived for cover, just as the traitor let fly. "Fury of mother earth, tremble and explode! QUAKE!!!"   
  
The ground exploded in a storm of debris and rock, as Catherine was thrown upwards by the force of the spell. Patch yelled in surprise as the floor beneath him cracked and shifted, a network of fissures forming in the formerly solid ground. Most of the Imperial troopers and workers that had been here before had had the sense to run like hell after that explosion, and now that Renaku had regained his sword, Patch was about to do likewise.  
  
"Come ON!" He yelled to Catherine, who winced as debris scored her arms and legs. "We gotta get out of here!"   
  
Catherine didn't even look at him. "Rebel scum... you suggest I'd join you? You are more of an idiot than I'd thought. I did this because I cannot stand..." She gestured at Renaku, floating in midair. "...that asshole being my superior."  
  
Patch didn't miss a beat, plasma rifle blazing in a useless gesture at the floating Renaku. As expected, the plasma bolts were reflected. "You know... attacking your superior can be seen as an act of treason!" He yelled over the whining zap of a plasma discharge. "They'll kill you!"  
  
That was all he got out before a sizeable piece of rock slammed against Catherine's head, and she went down.  
  
Patch went through exactly 0.6 seconds of indecision.   
  
Then muttering another curse, he ignored the smart thing and did the right thing. Dashing over to where she lay, he picked her up, black cloak and all, and ran.  
  
Too bad Renaku caught sight of movement. His head turned, a hand raised, and the floor erupted around Patch as he ran. But the brave O7 trooper struggled on bravely, running flat out, jumping over a rock, a piece of MEDUSA or a dead body when the need arose, Catherine slung in a fireman's carry over his left shoulder.  
  
He made it out just as he heard a prolonged scream of fury and the door disappeared in a swirl of magical flame.   
  
Tara was waiting for him in the shadow of a tree, only pausing to give Patch an angry look. "What did you bring HER for?" She muttered, gesturing at Catherine.  
  
Patch didn't answer. "Let's just get out of here. We got what we came for; the factory is pretty much trashed already."  
  
Five minutes later, a safe distance away, Tara beckoned to Patch. "May I?"  
  
"Be my guest." Patch muttered, handing her a small cylindrical device with a series of switched along its side.   
  
Tara smiled, closed her eyes, and jammed three switches.  
  
The rest of the facility became a rapidly expanding cloud of superheated gas, setting alight a few of the trees around the blast radius.   
  
"Not bad."  
  
"Did we get him?" Tara asked. There was no need to ask who she was referring to.  
  
"I sure as hell hope so."  
  
Renaku floated above the damage, wreathed in flame.   
  
Oh, they would so PAY for all of this. Materia in his sword glowed strongly as he opened a portal to the Imperial Citadel. This was getting out of hand.

* * *

I sighed.  
  
"I suppose... all we have to do now is get back to the Reality Window that we came through and get back to the universe we were in."  
  
"Not that easy." Alex muttered. "Look."   
  
As I watched, the snow piled higher and higher, until it was on the verge of obscuring my view out the dirty window. White blotted out the unseemly cracks in the landscape, the fallen skyscrapers, the demolished city blocks.   
  
Russia was a dead city. Nothing lived openly in it now, except the Anima, who were as numerous as rats, and several hundred times as dangerous.  
  
"Want a drink? You look like you need one." Eric, face still smeared with the black ichor that passed for blood among the Anima, passed me a small bottle of the sort that Kyrina had been drinking from. "You look like hell."  
  
"Feel like it too." I joked, gladly taking the bottle. Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt.  
  
I took a swig and coughed. The stuff felt like liquid fire streaming down my throat!  
  
Eric laughed raucously. "Good shit, huh? Vodka. Heard the Ancients used to brew this in massive amounts and sell it for profit."  
  
"Really?" I mutter, eyes watering from the strength of the stuff.  
  
"Yep." Eric tapped his baseball bat against his left shoulder. "Surprised it don't eat through th' bottle."  
  
I tapped Alex on the shoulder, offering her the small bottle, but she shakes her head. Kyrina is laid out on the stool, asleep.  
  
"I give up." Alex sighed. "We're not going anywhere until the snow stops. Durandal, wake me in two, three hours?" That having been said, she laid herself out, curling up by the flickering flames and getting comfortable.  
  
"Affirmative, Alex." Durandal replied. "Sleep is such a valuable commodity among mortals..."  
  
"And why shouldn't it be?" I blurt out, hiccuping from the effects of the alcohol. "It'a relief to know we still have human faults. At least it shows we're still human."  
  
Durandal does not answer for a long moment. "...I cannot sleep. Does this mean I'm not human?"  
  
"No." Despite myself, I chuckle. "I have the same problem a lot of times."  
  
Eric looks at me strangely, so I ask why. He has been showing a curious amount of interest in us, so I feel suspicious. After all, I had let a spy infiltrate into the core of our little group through my own trust.  
  
"Dunno..." He replied, faking an interest in his bat. "It's just... how the hell did you get all this stuff?"  
  
"What stuff?" I ask, beginning to have serious doubts.  
  
"Look, you have plasma power cores in your weapon. You have a voice-activated computer. That girl..." Here he gestured at the sleeping Alex "... even has materia! I dunno, but all those items are pretty rare. I haven't seen any plasma power cores around the scavenger heaps in what, years?"  
  
I freeze, thinking of what excuse to give him, but he continues, oblivious.  
  
"I mean... look at Ky's knife. She's the only one with annyfink like it." He took another thoughtful swig from the bottle. "And you two come here... and you recognize it straightway. That girl.... she says it wuz a trooper knife, or summat."  
  
I shake my head. "I assure you, there is nothing weird going on..."  
  
"Damn right there is." Eric continues. "Troopers are... whass the word... military infantry. Now there's no military force been here for years. Where the hell did these weapons come from? And good quality too." To prove his point, with practiced fingers he slips Kyrina's knife from its sheath and drives it with little effort straight through a metal support strut.  
  
"Diamond finish. Ultralight alloy." He concludes, eyes glazed with the effects of the alcohol, but words still for the most part clear.  
  
I brush my dark hair out of my eyes. "That doesn't prove anything."  
  
"Yeah, it does." Evidently he has been paying attention to more things than I thought. "Kyrina... she's not from 'round here."  
  
Around this point I started paying close attention.   
  
"Me and a kid called Jak... we were out in th' Waste, hunting for food an' weapons... when we see this light... this light from the sky..." The scavenger's eyes clouded with the memory. "We foun' Kyrina in a crater... memory loss... dunno who she was and where she come from."  
  
I nodded. If the Engine had been used before the Key had been activated... surely something would have gone wrong... memory loss, time shift differences... extreme in this case, as she had grown years younger, and had lost all memory of who and what she was.  
  
Then, with a shock, I realized it too. The trip through the Engine and through other realities had changed me, anyway. Not in any largely noticeable way, but still... would I have known how to assemble a Chaos mecha back at the old SFMA? Mecha didn't even exist in our universe.  
  
"She say her name begins with a K... and she like... saved me and Jak from becomin' Anima food. Jak died on the way back, though..."  
  
I nodded, feeling suddenly weary. "'Night, Eric."  
  
"...Whass... what I'm tryin' to say... izzat, mebbe you an' Ky come from the same place! Isssn't it?"  
  
I drifted into unconciousness, dreaming of stars again. 


	15. DISK II: s3lf 4ss3r7ioN

_Falling.  
  
Falling forever.  
  
Deeper into space._  
  
Where am I going...?  
  
I really don't know. I don't expect to find out, either.   
  
_Should I know?_  
  
Drowning in the darkness, a human satellite, falling through the worlds, away and towards stars, thinking, feeling...cold.  
  
"Come with me." A voice said, and with it comes a hand, the reassuring warmth of human contact pulling me out of the darkness and into the light.  
  
I blinked in the brightness, standing above a city as it erupted in flame, watching two people battle it out in the streets.   
  
Magic flies back and forth as people steer clear of them, although they run everywhere. People are running. Running? Where?  
  
We can understand our fear of the darkness, but why are we afraid of the light?  
  
_Dreams. Darkness. Shadows. A memory.  
_  
I awoke.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: 4our: s3lf ass3rt10n  
  
**

* * *

Breathing hard, I jerk awake.  
  
It is only then I realize Alex had been curled up beside me.  
  
She is awake in an instant, clutching at my arm. "What is it, Rain?"  
  
I hear her voice as if through a thick pane of glass. Muffled. Slowly but surely, my vision clears, but the painful, throbbing sensation between my eyes does not go away. The feeling of wrongness, the feeling that something was amiss, something invisible, but so tangibly there...   
  
"Something's wrong with the Engine." I groan.  
  
She is fully awake in microseconds. Somehow, I still don't see how some people can do that, even after going through SFMA training myself. "How do you know....?"  
  
I put my head in my hands. "I don't know... but something's happening. I can feel it."  
  
She gets up, yawns, and stretches. "Well, we should better check it out, while it isn't snowing." She gestures at the scattered groups of people napping around dead fires. "Better if they don't know we're gone."  
  
"I have a headache." I complain.  
  
She shrugs. "What else is new?" Pulling me to my feet, we step cautiously over assorted pieces of junk to avoid waking the poor scavengers of this Earth. "You know where we're going?"  
  
I turn, and step closer to the north. The headache gets stronger. "That way."  
  
"How do you know all this?" Alex asks me incredulously. "ESP? I don't think that exists even in this universe..."  
  
I worry for a second. She's too quick to accept what she sees in each universe as normal. Me, I'm cautious as hell, but even then some things slip through.  
  
Tara.  
  
Shut up.  
  
"I don't know." I answer Alex. "I... can just feel the Engine. I know something's wrong.... it feels... like... it's being used."  
  
Her face is full of concern. "Let's get back to the entry spot as quickly as we can - "  
  
"And just where do you think you two are going so damn early?" The voice stops us both cold. It is none other than Kyr-, no, Kira. She is Kira. At least, Durandal says she has a implant identifying her as an O7 operative, and that's good enough for me.  
  
Looking at her, I notice that she looks tired and disheveled (well, slightly more than normal anyway), most likely the aftereffects of last night's alcohol. I had taken a small taste of the stuff, and it was most likely distilled from cleaning chemicals from the way it had gone down.   
  
She had a hangover, and was in a bad mood. Although I know it's a cliche, I had to say it. She looked... cute when angry.  
  
But the knife and plasma pistol at her hip reminded me to take her seriously. If she was as skilled as Patch had said...  
  
"We're going for a walk. You know, fresh morning air and all?" Alex spat.  
  
I shook my head. Was that the best she could come up with? Oh well. "You want to join us?"  
  
Alex's eyes met mine in a split second of recognition.   
  
Kira went slightly green for a second, then turned away and projectile vomited.  
  
I sighed. THIS was why I didn't drink that much. Drunk me was equal to sick and worthless me the next morning. Evidently the same held true even in alternate universes. For other people as well.  
  
"You okay?" I offer her a paper tissue, which she gratefully accepts, but mutters a Cure spell to get rid of the hangover. "I think the 'morning air' would do you good."  
  
Kira nodded weakly.

* * *

Three solitary figures were seen picking their lonely way across the Outer Waste in the wake of the snows, leaving compacted footprints in the snow where they trod.  
  
Unseen, black shapes hugged the shadows behind, ready to spring at a moment's notice, to sprout multifuntional pseudopods that would rend and tear flesh at will, to destroy whatever that stood against them...  
  
"I am NOT having a good DAY!!!" Kyrina yelled. "It would be really nice if you could just LEAVE ME to have my HANGOVER IN PEACE!!!!!" Magic flared. "PLASMACASTER!!!"  
  
She flicked her modified knife up, where it attached to her plasma pistol like some sort of bayonet. Firing, the plasma dripped along the blade length and formed a solid beam that ripped through black Anima like scissors through weak tissue paper.

* * *

_"...shattered dreams/empty souls/broken for the world to see/wide open for everyone to hurt/this is what I am/this is what I am..."_

* * *

**[journal entry: catherine shaw]**  
  
**0215 hours, location unknown:  
**  
_Why am I here?  
  
Why do I exist?  
  
Is anyone out there?  
  
Does anyone care?  
  
I'm alone.  
  
I failed in my mission. My allegiance is to the great and powerful Imperial Empire!  
  
Is it...?  
  
Renaku tried to kill me because I failed. Is this the future I want? One ruled by him?  
  
Where is the vision of peace and prosperity the President promised when we swore allegiance to him? Dust and ashes... after the Five Minute War, anyone who had power enough to group people towards him ended up more powerful. Charles Kinglow and his Earthbreaker Army had proved that. And he used his power for justice, rebuilding a broken earth.  
  
Then Rezo... Rezo had killed him.  
  
All the lies, hidden under a thin veneer.   
  
I was one that knew the truth. One day working on a terminal, I had hacked the Imperial database, and in Rezo's files, I had found the reality. The truth. All in a small file marked 'The Rise and Fall of Mankind'.  
  
Our great president Rezo Takada was nothing but a fraud. A killer. He had murdered Charles Kingslow in his sleep, and taken over. Rezo had passed it off as a suicide, and renamed the Earthbreakers as the Imperial Empire.  
  
The Imperials now had a red diamond tattooed on their bodies as soon as they were born, marking them as one of the Imperial-sworn, to Rezo and Rezo alone.  
  
There were those who resisted. Those who fought. The Rebels and the Imperials had fought hard for every inch of their new earth, people, forgotten Ancient technology, atrocious ion weapons and mecha in a desperate struggle for their existence.   
  
The Rebels had been crushed.  
  
And not for the first time, I felt myself doubting my cause.   
  
Limp strands of my flaxen hair hung down into my face. I would have brushed it off, had not my hands been tied behind my back.  
  
I was a captive. Of the Rebels. Two of them. I knew both.  
  
I needed to get loose.  
_

* * *

Patch picked dirt from underneath his fingernails with his standard issue M41-A trooper knife. Muttering to himself, he stabbed down into the ground with the knife, the weapon sliding effortlessly into the earth. A few feet away lay the captive's firearm, a Magnum revolver. It gleamed in the flicker of the flames, shells removed and lying in a small pile at its side.  
  
"Talk." He said, facing the woman in front of him, hands tied behind her back by a short length of rope. "All you know. You're a pretty high level Imperial scientist, and you hafta know somethin'."   
  
The woman didn't reply. She kept secrets tighter than the mage cloak she wore.  
  
"TALK!" Patch barked, losing his patience and hefting his plasma rifle, charged and ready. "What did you do for Renaku?"  
  
Tara grabbed the rifle barrel, and with a expert flick of her wrists, popped the weapon loose. "She won't tell us anything if she is dead. Let me talk to her."  
  
Patch fell back and stared aimlessly into the fire, brooding.  
  
Tara knelt down, facing the captive. Blue eyes set in a beautiful, high-cheeked face met Tara's own brown, matching her red hair.  
  
"You...traitor..." Catherine spat. "You betrayed us. You should have killed them all when you had the chance."  
  
Tara backed up a little. She still remember when Catherine had her at her mercy, and pretty much forced her to kill Rain, and she was still sore about it. But Patch came to her rescue, still looking omniously at the flames. "You would have been killed for trying to kill Renaku as well."  
  
Catherine did not look at him. He was the stronger one - a hardened Rebel. Tara was the weak link. She was still suffering from emotional trauma at nearly having to kill the one she had hopelessly fallen for, and underneath all the brash assassin bravado, she was still pretty much a girl at heart. But she had to be careful with her, maybe even more so. Push so far and she just might snap...  
  
"We have you are our mercy." Tara hissed, angry that she had needed Patch to come to her emotional rescue. "We can kill you right now, and nobody in the world would even care."  
  
The Imperial mage sighed. "So what? You do know that your cause is worthless, you know. You will be dead within days, weeks, months.... they wil come for you eventually. It doesn't make a difference."  
  
There was a short rustling in the grass. Patch's eyes turned to the local flora just as a breeze swept by.  
  
"What makes you so sure that we will die?" Tara said, little more than slightly unnerved at her nemesis's prediction.  
  
"Because...." Catherine muttered, half to herself. Then she was up and moving, a small flare of shadow magic burning the bonds from her hands, blade up in a practiced motion, magic flying through the air to hit a hidden trooper who screamed at the impact and fired his rifle wildly. Another one behind him screamed as a small throwing knife sprouted from his midsection, and then the one behind Patch took a knife through the throat and fell, dead.  
  
"...shit." Patch breathed.  
  
"Because," Catherine finished. "Lord Renaku sends people like... me."  
  
Patch's rifle dropped from limp fingers. "Sweet mother on a stick."  
  
"Now I suggest we move." The Imperial scientist returned the small fan of throwing knives she had out into various compartments under her black cloak. "That was just a scout party. Then the assassins will come, and then the MEDUSA. I am sure your friend is informed of that pattern, having been one herself." Here she gestured at Tara.  
  
She ghosted away under the trees.  
  
Tara shrugged and followed.  
  
Patch picked up his rifle. "Hey... wait a sec - !"

* * *

**0925 hours, Hades, Yahl Russa Waste**  
  
Rain whipped his staff around in a glowing blue arc, freeing Alex from the brackish black ichor that had trapped her and had been trying to rip her to shreds.   
  
"Some peaceful morning walk, huh?" Alex yelled, teeth gritted, knife out and spells at the ready. A series of plasma scored the Anima beside her, and she made a mental note to thank Kyrina, no, wait, KIRA, for that small favor.  
  
She was Kira. As unbelieveable as that seemed, it was true. 'Kyrina' was not from Hades at all. She was the girl who had been accidentally sent to Hades via uncontrolled Reality Engine. And the process had changed her. She had lost her memory, and in the process had lost a few years of age.  
  
Well, Alex thought. I suppose forgetting all your bad past can take a few years off you.  
  
And now there was something wrong with the Engine. At least Rain said so, and he had muttered something about being 'bonded to the Engine' when she had questioned him, so that was a big blank.  
  
But something WAS wrong. Kira had said the Anima barely ventured outside in broad daylight, and now there was often a random encounter every few minutes. So far, she had lost count of the black, twisted forms she had to hack her way through now.  
  
The 'early walk' Rain had suggested was in fact only a ploy to get Kyrina back into her own world, but there was definitely something wrong about the whole thing, as if the Anima knew where they were going.  
  
Jogging, she called to the other two. "Hurry up!"  
  
"Where the hell is your girlfriend going in such a hurry?" Kyrina grumbled.  
  
Rain started, more at the fact that Kyrina had called Alex his 'girlfriend' more than anything else. "Wha-.... oh. She's not my girlfriend."  
  
"So why the hell do you two travel together?"  
  
Rain blushed. This was unusual for him, as he wasn't really a ladies' man back in his own universe. He lived a lonely existence. But so far since coming to what he thought of as some long, intricate nightmare, he had had not one, but TWO girls kiss him, in very interesting positions as well. "I... I guess it was just coincidence that decided to... throw us in together." As if on cue, his headache doubled. Something was definitely wrong with the Reality Engine....  
  
They topped the next curve of the pile of Junk, and ... stopped, staring.  
  
At the middle of the oddly-shaped crater that had first marked Kira's entrance to this world and then Rain and Alex's, black ichor foamed and flowed, Anima gathering up and bunching themselves in the middle.  
  
"They're trying to get through!" Rain exclaimed, the reason for his headache suddenly becoming all too clear. "They want to get to the other universe!"  
  
"The WHAT?" Kyrina stared at him as if he had just suddenly grown a second head. "Are you crazy? You must have hit your head on something in that last battle - "  
  
Alex, however, went pale. "You don't mean....! Can you stop it?"  
  
"No... need time...." Rain muttered over the growing throb in his head. "I can't stop it...."  
  
Alex ran through the options in her mind. If the Anima got through to other worlds like the one they had been in... or even their own earth... Her eyes grew wide. "There's only one thing we can do."  
  
"I get the feeling I'm missing something here." Kyrina quipped. "Okay, tell it to me straight. Who the hell are you two?"  
  
Alex shook her head. "We don't have time for this...."  
  
Rain turned around and gripped Kira by the shoulders, somehow feeling nervous about the physical contact with a girl even though he knew this had to be done. "What do you live for?"  
  
Kyrina met his gaze nervously. "Um... ah... I don't know."  
  
"Are you willing to risk everything to find out what you do live for?" Rain asked. "Will you do this?"  
  
"Wait a sec... just what are you two on about?" Kyrina blurted. "Can you at least explain?"  
  
"No time... Rain..." Alex said, her voice quaking slightly as the massive black mass began to take on a smooth shape and form, an Anima made out of a lot of the things combined. "We have to do this..."  
  
"No! I am not going wherever the heck it is you're going until you tell me where we're going and why!" Kyrina yelled, her anger showing through the cracks in her confusion.   
  
Rain sighed. "Kyrina... I need you to trust me. I know that in someplace else there is a man who loves you very much and wants you to return to him. I know that the world and life you have been living so far is a sham."  
  
Kyrina faced him with a sort of stony silence.  
  
"Have you ever felt the feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you didn't belong? You didn't know who you were or what you were?" Rain said, his words echoing his own thoughts. "I'm offering you a chance to find out the truth. You want to or not?"  
  
The brunette he held hung her head.  
  
"Come on." Rain said wearily. "What have you got here at Tribe Omega that you treasure?"  
  
Alex smirked inwardly, remembering the time when she had pretty much said the same words to Rain in a sense.  
  
Kyrina stood straighter. "I don't know how you know all of this, I don't know who you are, I don't even know what the hell kind of weed you two been smoking... but I'm coming with you. I need to find out about my past. I want to know. I need assertion of who I am. Why I am."  
  
"Self-assertion." Rain nodded.  
  
Alex turned her attention back to the Anima. "Um... guys?"  
  
It had noticed them. One massive black mask turned their way. The impossibly large Anima stretched out to a full standing position - a full 40 meters. It would easily have been the equivalent of two Chaos mecha.  
  
One black arm shot out, formed into a tentacle, and the group scattered as the large arm slammed against the area where they had formerly been standing.  
  
Rain was the fastest to recover. Driven by a sheer amount of adrenaline, he jumped on the arm tentacle and actually ran up it, as the arm began to lift for a second swipe, intending to squash the stupid humans.  
  
Rain pounded up the arm, sliding down it when the Anima lifted it, and came down in a single swipe across the shoulders, drawing a glowing blue slash of plasma lengthways across the face.  
  
The mask split in half, and hundreds, no, THOUSANDS, of shimmering black ribbons lashed out at Rain as he fell. One snagged his arm and flung him around like a weak rag doll filled with flesh and organs.  
  
"Di-Ice!" Alex shrieked. The freezing spell froze a portion of the Anima's foot, but it seemed unaffected... the thing was just too large. "It's not working...."  
  
Kyrina jammed the trigger of her plasma pistol repeatedly, chewing holes in the Anima's torso, but they reformed as quickly as she could cause damage. "We're not doing enough damage! Haven't you got any bigger spells?"  
  
"Cover for me!" Alex yelled as a dozen larger tentacles streamed out at her. "I need to find something that might work!!"  
  
The other girl concentrated and shot down the tentacles as they approached Alex, every plasma burst tearing through alien flesh and hissing straight through it. "I can't hold them off for long...."  
  
Alex dug through her pack frantically. All her materia were pretty low-level... she needed something powerful... like.. like....  
  
She held up the ornately carved wooden box Tara had thrown her before she had disappeared through the Engine. Shaking it, she found it rattled.... Sliding open the lid revealed a small pile of red materia.  
  
Intrigued, she slid one into the empty materia groove on her M41-A trooper knife. It seemed to shine with an inner light.  
  
Summoning up all the willpower that she had, she forced it through the materia, hoping for something... anything... a spell of some sort....  
  
Words came unbidden to her mind, as she held her knife up. "Sage of sages, keeper of the wisdom of endless time, father of the storm..." Alex blinked. Was she speaking like some sort of bard? "...I call to thee, I beseech thee, bring the swift punishment of nature to all those found wanting! Decreed by thine hand, the sentence from on high... _JUDGEMENT BOLT!!!"_  
  
The world faded to white around her....

* * *

Alex looked around. She seemed to be standing on thin air, above what seemed like clouds. Hesitantly, she took a step forward.   
  
Through the mists, she caught sight of something that looked like the outline of an old man.   
  
_What is the matter, child_? The voice sounded infinitely old, full of wisdom and power. It didn't sound weak and frail... just... old. _You call upon me.  
_  
"We... we... needed help." Alex stuttered. "...Please."  
  
The wizened old man stepped forward, creating a small hole in the clouds with his staff, to get a good look at the Anima. A worthy foe indeed.  
  
..._You are welcome_. Ramuh said.

* * *

The skies boiled with thick, black clouds. Lightning churned, rolled, and crackled through the dark heavens, ringing a vortex which formed in the center of the storm. An ancient man in impeccable golden robes descended from the clouds, a crackling staff in his hand. Lightning surged and sparked around him as he threw the staff down, piercing the large Anima below.  
  
Frantically, the Anima pulled one arm tentacle around, tried to pull the staff out, but electricity rippled along it's form even as it did.  
  
Rain and Kyrina were whisked to safety an instant before the full force of the storm was unleashed, pouring into Ramuh's staff, electricity razing the ground for 50 meters in every direction and frying the Anima. The monster itself writhed and spasmed wildly, tentacles in every direction, before exploding in a shower of blue sparks and black ichor.   
  
Rain appeared on the scene, looking at the charred black crater. "...Wow." 


	16. DISK II: br3ak0ut

* * *

The Reality Engine had been placed under maximum security conditions. This had involved digging it up from the original Imperial base where it had been housed and carted off to the Imperial City.  
  
Actually, the Reality Engine could have been placed in a number of smaller bases and MEDUSA plants along the sparsely guarded industrial sectors outside the main Imperial City, but those areas had been suffering "terrorist attacks" from an "unknown source". The average citizen in the Imperial City would have been curious about exactly who, as according to the reports that were paraded night and day across the public screens and monitors, the small terrorist group known as the Zero-7 organisation had been utterly decimated in a full-scale attack from the Imperial Guard.  
  
The average citizen (had he been highly observant) would also have noticed the increased number of Imperial Guard patrolling the streets after dark, and the small, elite group of Imperial Dragoons that had been posted on the city borders. Rezo Takada, his presidential highness himself, had looked nervous at his last press conference. What was up?  
  
But surely nothing could happen. This was the hub of Imperial influence, their capital city, their stronghold! Nothing could happen here. The city was guarded by a wall of concrete and steel fifty feet high on all sides, with artillery and guard towers posted at adequate intervals. Virtually impenetrable.  
  
What? What was that? An attack from another reality? Preposterous. President Rezo Takada had stated that the other realities housed people with technology far below the armaments that the Imperial army were armed with. Tribesmen with spears and wooden shields would find themselves up against tanks, MEDUSA, and plasma weaponry. There was no chance that sentient species from another reality would dare to attack them, no sirree. And the Engine couldn't be controlled as of yet anyway - apparently it needed some sort of "key" to function properly. Imperial scientists were working on that particular problem right now, and they expected success any day soon!  
  
_The Imperial Empire would reign victorious._  
  
Which was also why the Reality Engine, secure in the heart of an Imperial military lab, was unguarded. This also explained why nobody noticed when a cylinder of light flickered to life in the middle of the Engine once more. This coincidentally also explained why nobody noticed when the cylinder of light snapped off, and three figures were left lying in the middle of the Engine.

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
FINAL FANTASY REALITY  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: 5ive: br3ak0ut  
  
****

* * *

**  
I came to slowly.  
  
The Engine seemed almost a part of me. It hurt when I hurt, it felt what I felt... I began to think of it more as some sort of living being instead of just a machine. That was how I knew how the Anima were trying to break through.  
  
We got there in time to stop them. Luckily.  
  
I crawled to my feet, my strength returning even as I did so, and reached for the heavy personal terminal clipped to my side. "Durandal?"  
  
"..ugh.... did someone get the plate number of that truck?" Kyrina muttered blearily, feeling for her belt holster and plasma pistol. "What happened?"  
  
"Welcome to your world." I said, not really believing the words that came out of my own mouth. With a nod to Alex, I drew my ashandarei and powered it up. The blue glow from the weapon was comforting in the darkness. "Alex, get me Durandal?"  
  
She flicked her blond hair back, and stared around us for a long moment, crystal blue eyes surveying the landscape, before tossing me the handheld computer. "This... this place... Rain, this isn't where we were when we left."  
  
I sigh and thumb the power switch on the handheld as the Durandal test pattern appeared on the tinny screen. "Alex, I couldn't care less about where we are now, as long as we're in the right reality..."  
  
"Whoa." Kyrina looked around the room - the steel walls and opaque glass windows, taking stock of the situation. "This your reality? Awfully small for one, innit?" She grinned cheerfully. Most likely her hangover had been lost in the timeless process of traveling via Reality Engine. Nothing discorporation into individual atoms wouldn't cure.  
  
"Durandal?"  
  
"I am listening, Rain. However, I have no idea where we are. Can you get me linked to any sort of surveillance system?" The smooth, regulated tones of the cyborg, although small, was a massive comfort. The light from my ashandarei made the room almost eerie, lit in a blue glow.  
  
Alex drew her knife. "That should be no problem."  
  
I nodded. "Follow my lead, guys - we're getting the hell out of here." I strode up to one of the glass mirrors, peering into a reflection of myself, having the bizarre feeling that I was watching myself watch myself watch myself watch myself...  
  
Shake it off, man. This may be a battle situation, and you must NOT lose it... keep it together...  
  
Taking a deep breath, hearing the 'click' of Kira loading her plasma pistol behind me and the whirr of air displacement on my other side as Alex spun her M41-A knife idly, I lunged, and slashed in a crescent motion, once, twice, three times.  
  
A perfect circle of glass fell backwards into a surveillance room. A red-uniformed guard was there sleeping as a camera whirred, viewing us from the back of a screen. He awoke at the sound of the glass circle hitting the floor and shattering into about a million pieces, of course. But that was all he did, as Kyrina, moving like a shadow, ghosted behind him and broke his neck.  
  
A red diamond was visible on his forehead, shaved bare.  
  
Dammit.  
  
Durandal beeped violently. "Imperial Guard! We are in a hostile environment - the Engine must have been held under surveillance here!" I had already come to the same conclusion about a second before. Now... a plan of action, a plan of action...  
  
"Okay, this is what we do. We get out of here. Always assume we're outnumbered, so don't raise any alarms through stupidity." Kyrina 'hmphed', and Alex stifled a laugh. "We get our bearings, then hijack a vehicle and get out of here." I stopped there, mainly because I had no idea what to do after that.  
  
Kyrina nodded, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and pulling her torn jacket closer around her shoulders. "I have no idea where we are, so you're the boss."  
  
"Me?"  
  
It was about then I noticed how I had been acting. A commander, a lieutenant telling the troops where to do what and when...  
  
Screw this.  
  
I sighed. "Ky, this is YOUR reality. Got that straight? You lived here and were part of a rebel organisation until you were sent to Tribe Omega via Reality Engine fault. You should be calling the shots, not me."  
  
Alex was about to interject, but Kyrina beat her to it. "Assuming what you're talking about isn't complete and total bull, you seem on top of the situation. You should handle this."  
  
I bit back a reply as Alex finally got a word in. "Now is not the time for arguing, now is the time to get out of here..."  
  
Wordlessly, I agreed. No point stalling. I sliced the lock off the door with a quick slash of shimmering blue energy, and it was game time.

* * *

On a grimy, dirty bar on the outskirts of the city, three Dragoons were having a beer.  
  
The general Dragoon is different to the Imperial Guard in several ways. Their uniform is black instead of the generic red, and they wear silver body armor on the outside of their uniform. They are also supremely proficient in the use of hand-to-hand weapons. As they were fond of saying, "Any idiot can pull a trigger, but it takes a particular type of idiot to want to charge against people with guns armed with nothing more than a sharp bit of metal."  
  
Dragoons were the cream of the crop, acting as recon units, spies, and pretty much one-man armies. Rezo Takada had once boasted that one Imperial Dragoon was the equal of fifty armed Imperial Guards. It wasn't really all that surprising, as Dragoon training often involved taking on a large number of armed Imperial Guards at the same time.  
  
"This is absolute bloody BALLS." One of the Dragoons swore. He was short and stocky, but the way he idly bounced the riot shockprod on his leg suggested he knew how to use it. An issue plasma pistol hung at his side. He was known as Biggs.  
  
Wedge, his partner, nodded, staring moodily into the bottom of his glass, an antique Winchester shotgun propped over his right shoulder. "I know. We were promised a war, dammit! New land to conquer... and whaddaya get? Street patrol."  
  
"You're not telling me you actually buy all of the 'other reality' crap that our Presidential Highness spews." The third Dragoon said, long black hair hanging loosely in strands around his face. "There is no such thing as another reality... this is just another fairy tale concocted to keep us happy while we wait for nothing."  
  
"Wit' all due respect, Cap'n," Biggs muttered, taking another gulp of his beer, "I kinda wish those O7 terrorists were still 'round here. Then we'd have some REAL competition."  
  
Kyle Swiftedge, 2nd Dragoon Lieutenant, sighed, drained his mug, and reached for his naginata, propped up against a wall. "We'd better get going, then. They may be paying us by the month, but I'm not going to just sit here. This is boring enough."  
  
Twin calls of "Aye" from the other two, and the three Dragoons checked their gear, paid for their drinks, and stepped out into the streets of the city.

* * *

Alex clicked a Aero materia into her knife, filling one of the former vacancies, and words of power, drawing from the life force of the planet itself, flowed from her mouth. "Gusts of wind, come to me, swirl and gather gracefully! Aero!"  
  
The resulting blast of wind knocked an Imperial Guard through a window. He fell, screaming, outward. Kyrina squeezed off three shots, two finding their mark in a stocky guard's chest and another clipping the scalp of another. Rain powered past the last one who turned to run, and let the trooper kill himself as he ran into the plasma blade of his ashandarei, the glowing blade punching clean through crimson uniform and body armor beneath. Blood spattered.  
  
"Okay, we're in business." Alex pulled a jack plug from the underside of one of the control panels. "Durandal, get us a way out of here."  
  
The AI replied promptly even through the inefficiencies of a direct data link. "There is a hangar bay in the north of this installation. This seems to be a science research facility of some sort..."  
  
"Vehicles?" Rain asked, as Kyrina took up a post guarding the corridor to the small communications office we had taken over.  
  
"There are fifteen MEDUSA without pilots in the hangar, as well as four of what appear to be armored personnel carriers." Durandal spoke out once more. Rain felt a flash of gratitude for the thing once known as the human David J. Skye, mind compressed into nothing more than a data file.  
  
Rain cricked his neck, yawning. "Se we hijack a APC, as none of us know how to pilot one of those MEDUSA things."  
  
"MEDUSA?" Kyrina paused. "I remember that name..."  
  
"You remember the name because you were from this reality." Alex snapped. Rain shoots her a look, not understanding why she was being so snappish all of a sudden.  
  
But Rain had no time to dwell on that thought. They were possibly deep in hostile territory, where life expectancy stretched to minutes in an optimistic situation. "Okay, guys. Let's go."  
  
The words had scarcely left his mouth when the shrill whine of an alarm sounded. The rush of booted feet could be heard in the corridor, right as Kyrina yelled, "We've got company!"  
  
The teenager grabbed one of the fallen plasma rifles and tossed it to Kyrina in exchange for her plasma pistol. The brown haired girl accepted the heavier weapon gratefully, racking the slide back and checking the plasma magazine was fully charged before returning fire down the short corridor.  
  
"We're pinned down!" Kyrina ducked around the corner as plasma bolts tore holes in the wall opposite the door. "We need a way out!"  
  
Alex ripped the jack plug from the console before drawing her knife. "We can fight our way out..." She turned to Rain. "Rain?"  
  
Rain wasn't there. He had thrown himself out the window a few seconds earlier.  
  
The SFMA cadet dropped and rolled as he hit the floor. Thankfully, it had been only a eight-foot drop, enough to hurt but not enough to break anything, at least, not seriously. It must have been the person Alex blasted out the window that set off the alarm then, Rain thought.   
  
He backed away, seeing the blue slash of plasma fire from the window that he had just dropped out of. "Get down here!" He yelled, hoping that the other two would hear him.... a second of pure gut instinct told him to turn around, and as it was, the member of the Imperial Guard who had been sneaking up behind him hit air as Rain dropped to one knee, slashed horizontally across, relieving the guard of both his legs. He screamed, attracting the attention of a few more of the Guard, who opened fire with plasma weapons.  
  
Rain, thinking fast, rolled, snagged the screaming guard up to chest height, and used him as a human shield. Blue plasma scarred holes in the man even as Rain held him up protectively. Whipping out Kyrina's plasma pistol from a jacket pocket, he ducked low and fired out beneath the man's legs.  
  
Three of the men dropped as plasma fire knifed them in the chest. Another sprouted a hissing plasma hole in his skull and fell like his lights had been cut. Rain grabbed the dead man he was using as a shield, twirled, shifted his weight to one leg, and let fly - the body hit two more of the men and sent them down in a heap of arms, legs, and plasma weapons.  
  
A cry of "DiBolt!" came from behind him, and the few men that still remained on their feet went down, twitching with the residual electricity charge. Rain swung around to see Alex next to him, flaxen hair framing her pale face, arms stretched out in a caster's stance, and Kyrina dealing with another group of men that flooded from another door.  
  
The brown-haired girl was having a hell of a time. It had been a while since she had had the chance to kill anything that didn't regenerate when you whacked it around and carried firearms as a nice bonus, too. The first man through the door of TechDiv Imperial Laboratory 2B was victim of a haymaker punch that sent him reeling, giving Kyrina time to frisk him and slam a dual kick into his midsection that knocked him flying back out the door where three more of the Imperial Guard waited.  
  
"Missing something?" Kyrina grinned, holding up two grenade pullrings in a fingerless-gloved hand.  
  
The guard looked at her, getting up, and looked at the two grenades that were attached to his belt and now beeping rapidly. "...Shit." He remarked, a split second before the door and the men behind it vanished in a fireball. Kyrina easily shifted around the shockwave, and she poked her head around the flaming wreck of the doorway before yelling "Clear!"  
  
Alex and Rain joined her, Durandal held in Rain's left hand, the right carrying Kira's very own plasma pistol and the ashandarei across his back. Alex grinned maniacally as she dispatched another guard, short knife hamstringing him as she danced around him, the man flailing out wildly with a similar knife but only contacting air. A swift kick, and the man's own knife flew out of his grasp, allowing Alex to dash in, then out, as the diamond-edged M-41A trooper knife severed neck.  
  
The group joined back together and ran through the corridors, looking for all the world as if they'd never split up.  
  
But still the alarm rang....

* * *

"Durandal," I yelled, almost in frustration, "What's the most direct path to the hangar?"  
  
The AI didn't miss a beat. "Take the next left, then take down the four guards waiting around the corner at the door labeled '3D'. Then go through the door and..."  
  
"How do you know all of this?" Alex yelled.  
  
"Direct data download from camera feeds." Durandal replied smugly. "There are advantages to having a purely electronic existence."  
  
Kyrina missed a step, looking at the palmtop. "Who the hell IS that?"  
  
"Long story." I muttered, reaching the door marked 3D, sliding low around the corner, twisting my body up in a kick. I felt the 'snap-click' of the jaw I hit snapping and getting crushed into the skull all through my leg.   
  
Not even letting the other two guards recover from the shock of seeing a teenager appearing from nowhere and rise up to slam a colleague in the mouth, I punched out with one arm sideways, splintering the femur with pure force. I felt something give, anyway, and the man fell, howling in agony. The other ate a barrage of plasma bolts courtesy Kyrina, who was cheerfully unloading a full magazine of plasma ammo into the body on the floor.  
  
"That's enough, we need to conserve ammo..." I said, just as she grinned and picked up a fresh plasma rifle from one of the bodies. "Never mind." I myself picked up another plasma clip and reloaded Kyrina's own plasma pistol. "We're getting out of here."  
  
"Straight ahead, to the right this time, and through the double doors." Durandal chirped, sounding remarkably chipper for someone who had been cyborged by the empire he had worked for and then condensed into pure data memory.  
  
Sighing, I cocked the plasma pistol. I was going to have a few words with the human-turned-AI once I got out of this mess... I nabbed a few fragmentation grenades off one of the guards' belts (they wouldn't be needing them, anyway) and kept moving.  
  
The door was guarded by two BlackOps with heavily modified UMP submachine guns - laser sight, heavy bore, most probably subsonic teflon-coated rounds... I told the other two to wait behind me... but Alex was there. Stupid mistake.  
  
I guess she does like to take the lead. Great, good, whatever. Now I could piss off back home and let her save the bloody world.   
  
What could I do in a situation like this? Go around the corner.  
  
I heard the near-silent whiffle of subsonic ammo as I slid home around the edge, bouncing up as Alex flung up a magical shield close-range to block the shots. Teflon-coated rounds span apart like tiny cocoons at subsonic range, creating shrapnel that flew in all directions. I cursed as the rounds tore apart the ground in front of me as the BlackOp fired wildly; I had no such magical protection.  
  
Hand-to-hand, then.  
  
I dropped both the palmtop and the plasma pistol, and let out a leg sweep that probably would have floored the BlackOp. He jumped over it, and countered with a kick that I caught just in time and twisted. He span with the move, and let out a frenzy of jabs that I blocked - well, mostly. My forearms felt a mass of bruises, though - this guy was taller than me, and man, did he hit hard.  
  
So, trained in physical combat, then. So how about this?  
  
I repeated the leg sweep move. As predicted, he jumped over the move and tried to counter -   
  
-but not before I broke out of the leg sweep mid-attack and rose up, slamming one knuckle home in the BlackOp's crotch. He doubled over, allowing me to knee him in the face and knock him out.  
  
I raised an eyebrow and looked at Alex. She was armed - in this confined space, I had no chance to use my ashandarei. She had no such problem - her knife flashed out, glittering silver. The BlackOp charged her again, and she countered, spinning a web of steel in front of her that pretty much shredded the poor guy.   
  
He fell, and I saw my fellow SFMA cadet grin at me. She too was enjoying the rush of combat.  
  
I looked at the BlackOp. For some reason, I couldn't resist a jibe.  
  
The fool was wearing a pair of sunglasses. Nice ones too, by the look of them. Ray-Bans. A quick, solid swipe across his nose, and the sunglasses lay in my hand. The BlackOp stared me back in the face, sweating heavily, clearly scared.  
  
Brushing my hair back with one hand, I donned the sunglasses. The area was bright enough for the use of them to be applicable rather than merely for show. The BlackOp stared down my newly acquired Matrix-style sunglasses and the barrel of his own UMP that I had picked up off the floor, and shuddered.  
  
"Tell Renaku that the boy who met him in a fair fight last time wants a rematch." I muttered, then snapped the barrel of the rifle up sideways, knocking the man out. He would be out of it for a few hours at most, but he would be alive to tell the tale.  
  
Alex looked at me curiously. "Surprising."  
  
"What?" I hissed. I was in no mood for jokes.  
  
"You look awesome with sunglasses."  
  
I sighed as Kyrina caught up (having been caught in some random battle from the rear). "Let's blow this door. Alex, do the honors?"  
  
She did an over-exaggerated bow. Kyrina, for some reason, cracked up. "As you command."  
  
What was up with her? Something weird was sure as all heck going on...  
  
"North wind, bring the chill of the winter storm! Ice!" The freezing mist spread outwards, encasing the door, and for a split second Tara attacking the original form of Durandal, the massive DA-00001A prototype tank, sprung to memory. Alex paused, then followed it up with another spell. "Out of the ground, raze all the greenery with flame! Fire!"  
  
The admittedly honest-sized fireball erupted around the door, and extreme cold met extreme heat. The door cracked and shattered. I turned my face slightly to the side as metal and ice fragments exploded past me. Kyrina looked on in amazement.  
  
"You can do THAT with magic?"  
  
I shook my head. "You really don't remember anything, do you? You're a high level mage. You have to remember something."  
  
"Maybe something could jog her memory..." Alex then yelled out. "DUCK!" A small platoon of the Imperial Guard had noticed that the door had been blown open, and returned fire. But that wasn't important - the thing that was was that a few pilots had immediately scrambled to MEDUSA cockpits upon our forced entry.  
  
I holstered the palmtop computer and dragged the second UMP rifle to me, one in each hand. "I'm sure the sight of Patch would, if they were as close as Patch said they were."  
  
"But Patch is dead." Alex muttered softly, only just audible over the shouts of men and the low whine of plasma discharge.  
  
To my surprise, a voice answered. "Negative."  
  
"What?" I said, a second before Alex did. "Patch is alive...?"  
  
"Correct." The smooth voice that we both knew as the voice of Durandal spoke from my holstered palmtop. "Each trooper has an implant that allows them to be tracked; did I not tell you before?"  
  
"Meaning?" Alex yelled over the sounds of gunfire.  
  
Durandal paused. "The implant tells me that the host is moving. Alive."  
  
"Patch is alive?" I near-yelled. "Great - that's the first place we're heading after we get out of here..."  
  
"If we get out of here." Durandal replied wryly. "Our present condition indicates that MEDUSA are about to launched against us."  
  
"Great, plan of action number six hundred and seventy." I said to myself. "Kyrina...?"  
  
She was gone.

* * *

"COME AND GET IT!!!" Kyrina screamed in manic joy as the plasma rifle in her arms blazed repeatedly, the weapon rapidly heating up as it maintained a rate of fire it was never meant to hold. Men died in droves; the stupid few who didn't immediately seek cover had been the first to die.  
  
The plasma fire suddenly stopped, and Kyrina ducked back behind one of the inert MEDUSA, cursing as the **OVERHEAT** light on the weapon came on. She dropped it and drew her own modded M41-A trooper knife. There was shouting going on, screams of the wounded... with any luck, they'd come behind here and check, come within range so that she could launch into close combat...  
  
The MEDUSA she was hiding behind moved.  
  
...Her cover was moving...!  
  
The large dragonlike frame unfolded itself and turned around, the pilot inside grinning as twin gatling guns appeared from formerly hidden shoulder compartments and began to rotate...  
  
"Untamed ferocity, drawn from the limitless skies above! DiBolt!" A voice yelled, and roughly 100,000 volts of raw electricity hit the MEDUSA. The pilot shuddered as the power coursed around him and through him. The MEDUSA itself packed up and refused to move.  
  
But the men that had been taking advantage of the lull in sustained plasma fire were closing in, firing, and she had no ranged weapon...  
  
Kyrina then caught sight of Rain sliding along the floor on his back having kicked off a wall for momentum, sunglasses still on, twin UMP rifles blazing away in his hands, the steady whiffle of subsonic ammo carving down the men where they stood.  
  
She had to admit, Rain looked damned COOL.  
  
"Hi." Alex said, as she popped up next to Kyrina. "This a private party, or can anyone join?" She quipped, ripping a pin out of a grenade with her teeth and letting it fly.  
  
The MEDUSA pilot had been smart and cocky. He had believed what they had said in the Imperial Mecha's Pilot Guidebook - that anyone in a mecha was virtually guaranteed safety from any other enemy units excepting enemy mecha. Conventional weapons were useless against them, so the book said. The Imperial MEDUSA pilot had felt so safe in his war machine that he had even left the cockpit open, so he could see the face of his enemy in real-time instead of data display screens as he made his kill.  
  
Pity.  
  
The small high-explosive, fragmentation grenade that the BlackOps were so fond of clunked solidly into the bottom of the cockpit, as Alex had made a perfect throw, right on target.  
  
Ideally, all was not lost. The pilot could have dropped out of his seat by releasing the harness catches, picked up the grenade, and thrown it back, but he was still reeling from the aftereffects of the Bolt spell. He got as far as dropping of his seat before the grenade went off and the MEDUSA went up in a budget-busting boom. 


	17. DISK II: sh0wd0wn

Kyle Swiftedge was bored.  
  
Bored bored bored.  
  
Patrol duty _SUCKED._  
  
The long-haired dragoon checked his plasma pistol sidearm for what seemed like the 'n'th time and began scratching a small piece of artwork in the dirt with the point of his naginata. Nothing better to do, after all. Probably the only reason that they were put on patrol duty was that the Presidential Highness himself, Rezo Takada, was afraid of the "unknown cause" that had affected the MEDUSA production factory plant a few miles north hitting the center of Imperial influence. As if!  
  
The Shield-Wall protected the city - a mesh of magic and Ancient power that was unsurpassed by any other form of defensive technology on earth. Kyle had seen it himself. A glowing field of golden energy, held there by a frame constructed of mythril and powered by multiple mana generators around the city; most physical attacks proved pointless against it. Nobody could enter the city without first entering the easily defendable gates, and those had their own laser barriers. A citadel had to be more of a fortress, after all.  
  
Yup. Boring. No terrorists, no rioters, not even the casual drunk he could push off the streets. Just him and his two fellow dragoons.  
  
"Yo, Cap'n." Wedge said from behind him. For the last hour or so, Wedge had been engaged in the laborious process of loading, unloading, and reloading his shotgun. It was a temperamental old piece, a Winchester, and Wedge often liked to boast that it had survived both the ravages of the Five Minute War and the war before that, even. It wasn't a standard weapon, but then again, the Dragoons were a lot more than the standard Imperial shocktroopers. "You don't buy this 'other reality' crap, do ya?"  
  
Kyle brushed his hair away from his face. "Of course I don't! I think it's a complete and utter waste of time... this is the only world we got and it's the only world that we know."  
  
"Neh." Wedge grunted, speaking in the stunted Basic common among the trooper folk. "I'm sure they've at least found som'thin or other. Whass th' reason for all the fuzz aroun' TechDiv, then?"  
  
"No idea." Kyle muttered, concentrating on drawing what looked like a child's face in the dirt, and then cursing when a small breeze picked up some of the dirt and scattered it around. "Some new weapon, maybe?"  
  
"Mebbe?" Wedge laughed. "MEBBE? You tellin' me that MEBBE they've got som'thin new that they don't want us t' know 'bout, neh?"  
  
Kyle grimaced. "Shut the hell up, Wedge."  
  
Wedge grinned. "Oh, pullin' rank, are you now, Cap'n?"  
  
Biggs smacked a meaty fist into a palm. "Wedge, I've been puttin' up with your crap for the last hour. Can't you just shut up and leave the Cap'n be?"  
  
"Neh..." Wedge began, but then the wail of faraway alarms drew his attention.  
  
Kyle drew himself to his feet. "Come on boys, let's get a piece of the action."  
  
"But the Major told us to stay here-" Biggs began, before Wedge cut him off.  
  
"Can it, fat boy. Do you really wanna stay 'ere for another hour while the shit goes down elsewhere?" The dragoon racked his shotgun. "Let's go!"

* * *

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: 6ix: sh0wd0wn  
  
**

* * *

Troopers in the dull red of the Imperial Guard scattered as a squat black APC crashed straight out the hangar doors of TechDiv, Alex at the wheel. The blonde whooped in a mixture of exhiliration and relief, adrenaline running through her veins at being behind the wheel of a war machine again. In her manic joy, she had completely forgotten what had happened last time she had been in control of a vehicle.  
  
The APC clipped the side of an inert MEDUSA; it skidded before grinding to a halt against another building. The MEDUSA fared worse- a wing was torn off completely as Alex floored the vehicle, smashing through the wreckage of the building she had just torn into. Alarms rang everywhere. Imperial Guard rushed to and fro in an odd frenzy of panicked troopers.  
  
The vehicle made a left, then approached a street that was too narrow for the APC to enter. Alex did it anyway.  
  
"Alex, don't -" Rain muttered, then was thrown to the floor as the APC brought down walls on either side of it, and the occasional unlucky bystander. Shrill screams ended abruptly as aforementioned unlucky bystanders were converted to pleasantly long smears of red.  
  
A MEDUSA took off after them; Kyrina brought the side turret of the armored personnel carrier to life and targeted. The .88 shell took a chunk out of the MEDUSA's side, but it kept on moving. Kyrina was unperturbed. She brushed a line of dark brown hair away from her face and fired again.  
  
The APC jolted, throwing the shot off course and into a building. There was an eruption of flame and three men stumbled out, screaming and trying to beat out the fires that covered their flesh.   
  
"For cryin' out LOUD!" Kyrina screamed as the oncoming MEDUSA returned fire and a rocket slammed hard into the back of the APC. "Can't you DRIVE?"  
  
Alex gunned the motor, righting the vehicle. Rain got to his feet. "Alex, stop!"  
  
"Tell that to the people chasing us." Alex muttered, teeth clenched and fingers tight about the wheel. "Left or right?"  
  
"RIGHT!!!" Rain yelled, just as Alex turned left, the APC careening precariously on the edge of two wheels before skidding past, grinding against a wall, and coming to a stop... right in front of a small stockade.  
  
Alex grinned. "Hold on to something."  
  
Kyrina fired once more before the barrel of the turret clipped a wall and snapped off. Cursing again, she reached for her plasma rifle and poked it out of the hole where the side .88 cannon had formerly been.  
  
The next rocket that ejected from the open chest of the MEDUSA was shot down by a stream of superheated plasma, exploding about three meters before it approached the APC. And the one after that. And the next one.  
  
Then the entire APC slammed forward as Alex drove the vehicle over the stockade with a resounding crunch. "Hull integrity at 50% and falling." Durandal reported calmly from where he had been plugged into the APC's main systems. "At the rate it is decreasing, my estimate is that it will fail in under three minutes, without MEDUSA taken into account."  
  
"Not far now." Alex coaxed the already complaining engine for more. "Not far."  
  
The Shield-Wall glittered above them, a pulsating gold-orange field of shimmering hexagons. Freedom and the sky waited beyond. It was only a matter of time...  
  
Rain tossed Kyrina another plasma power cell. "That's the last one!" He winced as Alex hit another chunk of rubble. "How far are we?"  
  
"Closest exit from the Imperial City is about six hundred feet away." The cyborg replied. There was a pause, then; "Five hundred feet."  
  
The MEDUSA behind them fired.  
  
"Four hundred."  
  
Rain gripped a metal support strut, Alex kept on driving for all she was worth; Kyrina's eyes widened. "INCOMING!" She screamed.  
  
"Three hundred."  
  
The rocket hit the APC with such force that the vehicle lifted off the ground, landed, skidded, hit a roadblock, flipped, and landed again, on it's back, wheels meeting air and whining ineffectually.  
  
The MEDUSA paused, chest cavity still open. Was it's target down?  
  
Then the remainder of a full clip of plasma shells hit it's vulnerable core, setting off the remaining rockets inside the chest cavity. There was a split second's pause, then the rockets exploded, blowing off the mecha's arms, legs, and head with incredible force and a rush of superheated air.  
  
Kyrina dropped the rifle from where she had thrown herself out the side of the APC seconds before the rocket had impacted. "Jackpot."  
  
Dashing over to the armored personnel carrier, she took a second to savor the burning wreckage in it's wake. The APC was supposed to be invulnerable. Now it was a smoking wreck, suitable for scrapping.  
  
Yanking a door off the side, she helped Alex out. The blonde's forehead was cut and bleeding, but she was otherwise fine, if a little dazed.  
  
"You okay?" Kyrina muttered.  
  
Alex coughed. "Remind me never to drive again."  
  
Kyrina grinned. "You got that right. Where's your boyfriend?"  
  
"He's not my boyfriend." Alex retorted, getting to her feet.  
  
"I miss anything important?" Rain said, sans sunglasses and leaning on his ashandarei. "Anything?"  
  
Alex looked at the street behind them. Screams of the wounded and the panicked were everywhere. The wreck of the APC had in effect blocked off the entire street. In front of them lay the exit, one of the side entrances to the Imperial City - a hole in the Shield-Wall.  
  
"Not much." She admitted honestly.  
  
Then a new voice rang out, loud and confident. "Hold it right there."  
  
Rain looked up. "Who is it?"

* * *

A figure with flowing black hair vaulted off a low rooftop and landed in a crouch. He was dressed in the black garb common among BlackOp troopers, but the addition of sections of silver armor set this one out from among the rest. A pair of small, embroidered silver dragons rested on shoulders, denoting rank. The holstered plasma pistol was also high-quality, from what Kyrina could see, anyway.  
  
The long-bladed spear that the figure held was a naginata - a long-range weapon. In an enclosed area, it was useless, but in wide open spaces like this, it was a truly deadly weapon in the right hands.  
  
Kyle Swiftedge, 2nd Captain of the Imperial Dragoons, faced the kids before him. "I place you under arrest of the Imperial Empire. You have the right to remain silent until tortured. You have the right to drop your weapons and come out with your hands up. You also have the right to beg that I don't order you killed right off." He paused mock-thoughtfully. "I think that's all the rights you got."  
  
Behind the sneer, Kyle's emerald eyes went through a few seconds of indecision. They're only kids! He thought. The dragoon had to remind himself of the wreckage behind him to set the thought firmly in his mind that these people were terrorists, most likely to blame for all the commotion and extra security.  
  
The boy stood up, wearily. "Do I have the right to a drink as well?"  
  
The dragoon's eyes never left the boy as he reached down to his belt and unclipped the Imperial issue water flask and tossed it over. Rain caught it effortlessly, unscrewed the cover, and took a long gulp. "Thanks."  
  
The SFMA cadet paused, and then tossed the flask back.  
  
Kyle caught it, and was thus caught, unprepared, when Rain charged him.  
  
"Get out of here!" Rain yelled to the other two. Kyle caught it again, this time, and yelled to his own men.  
  
"Wedge! Biggs!" Stop 'em!"  
  
Kyrina took off like a shot, but only got a few metres before a shotgun blast scattered the dirt in front of her. She froze.

* * *

Wedge grinned, a few feet behind her. "Thass' it. Drop your weapon, lady."  
  
However, Kyrina wasn't that stupid. She ducked, and the dragoon let off a shot on impulse, clean over her head. In the split second that it took Wedge to rack the shotgun for firing again, the girl had slipped her plasma pistol and her modded M41-A trooper knife from her belt, clipped the long knife to the underside of the pistol to form the plasmacaster, and placed Wedge in her sights.  
  
_ Standoff._  
  
"Damn, girl, you good." Wedge sighed ruefully. "You single?"  
  
Kyrina shrugged. "I really don't know."  
  
"What th' hell kinda answer 'zat?" Wedge grinned, chewing thoughtfully on the toothpick in his mouth.  
  
"Well, according to the other two, I'm supposed to be from this reality, and then transported into another one. Now I'm back and I have no recollections of my past life."  
  
The toothpick dropped from Wedge's slack jaws. He didn't even notice.  
  
"Don't ask me, I have no idea." Kyrina continued. "But one of the first aims of mine is to get the hell out of this city."  
  
The dragoon cocked his head to one side. "An' why would a nice girl like you wanna get outa a place like this? We got ever'thin you want. Bars, strip clubs, a chance for a good scrap ev'ry now and again with th' Imperial Guard..."  
  
Kyrina smiled. "Sounds real hospitable."  
  
"Do we really have to keep talkin' like this?" Wedge complained. "I dunno 'bout you, but my arm is gettin' mighty tired. These Winchesters ain't light, ya kno'."  
  
"Speak for yourself." Kyrina said. "We could be at this all day."  
  
Wedge smirked. "Or you could drop your weapon an' save me a hella' lotta time. Then mebbe you an' me could go get some drinks sum'place."  
  
To his surprise, she answered. "Sounds good to me."  
  
And she dropped her weapon.  
  
"'Bout bloody time, too-" That was about all Wedge got out, before Kyrina's right foot knocked the shotgun out of his hand and her left slammed into his jaw.  
  
"You're none of you very bright, are you?" Kyrina said conversationally, landing.  
  
The dragoon spat something that tasted horribly like bloody teeth out of his mouth and raised himself to a ready stance. "My offer stands."  
  
"You're buying."  
  
"Fight you for it."  
  
Kyrina smiled. She could get to like this guy. "Considering what little time I have before the rest of this city awakens and decides to kick my ass, I think I can spare a minute or two."  
  
They rushed at each other.

* * *

Alex rolled as plasma fire sprayed towards her. She dived through the nearest street window, rolling to the floor of a food store, not yet open at this early hour. The blue slash of plasma scored holes in the wall behind her, and she frantically drew her own M41-A, ducking for cover.  
  
The stream of plasma stopped, and in it's place a confident voice rang out. "Come out with your hands up!"  
  
Alex didn't gratify that with a reply.  
  
"I guess that means no." Biggs muttered to himself. Then, louder, he continued. "If you do not surrender your weapon and reveal yourself within the next five seconds I will be forced to take lethal action against you!"  
  
'Yeah, right.' Alex thought, tapping the blade of her M41-A knife thoughtfully. "Doesn't firing at me constitute lethal action anyway?" She grinned. She may not have come top of her class back at the SFMA in Military Psychology, but this chump she could handle.  
  
Biggs chuckled. The girl must be some kind of smartmouth... "No, lethal action would compromise me beating the shit out of you, personally." He could give as good as he got.  
  
Alex paused. "What proof do I have that once I come out you won't plug me full of plasma?"  
  
The dragoon frowned. "You're a kid. We don't hurt kids. We just shove them in rehab."  
  
'Ohhh...' Alex muttered to herself. "A kid, am I? I bet I could best you in hand-to-hand combat."  
  
"Suuuure." Biggs sighed. "Want to test that claim?" Truth to tell, he was spoiling for a fight. This was better than street patrol, after all.  
  
The SFMA cadet replied. "No problem... here I come."  
  
"Five." Biggs said, loudly and clearly. "Four... three... two..."  
  
Alex slid past the counter, throwing an unidentifiable package at the dragoon and knocking his aim off. A quick flip of the hands disarmed Biggs, but before Alex could capitualize, he had thrown himself backward, and the riot shockrod had appeared in his hands, extending to a modest length of about two feet.  
  
"One." Biggs said, and he swung.

* * *

I slashed downward, then up, twirling the staff around to decapitate my assailant. We couldn't afford to waste any more time - the longer the alarms kept ringing, the more people got wind of the fact that we were trying to get out, and the more chance of the rest of the Imperial Guard reacting properly before we could escape.  
  
The ashandarei met resistance. Plasma staff met naginata, and clung. Blue energy flared up, and I twisted, moving around to get better leverage on the point of impact. The man was stronger than me, however, and he forced me back. I ducked under the swipe that followed, and jumped over the low sweep of the naginata, handspringing up to land, spearpoint first, in a move that would have impaled the man right through the middle.  
  
He was good, very much so. Dodging back, he grabbed a hold of my weapon, and ripped it out of the ground. Twirling it effortlessly, he grinned, naginata in one hand and my ashandarei in the other.  
  
I jumped around, moving away from the twin blurs of steel and plasma that crossed my vision again and again. Those weapons had range... I couldn't get close.  
  
However, if I could... those weapons were both long-range. If I could get in under his guard and hammer him before he had a chance to respond... game, set, and match.  
  
As I moved away from a shifting cross-slash, I sighed. If I couldn't get in under his guard, I was about to be left open with a cleaver-sized headache.  
  
Ducking under another slash tinged with the shine of blue plasma, he grabbed my weapon and tugged. He showed no signs of wanting to let go, so I did. The second of imbalance was all that I needed - I twisted around the point of the weapon, leaned sideways, and popped the ashandarei loose.  
  
He didn't expect that, and he definitely didn't expect the three punches that I threw after that with my free hand. Green eyes showed shock as he couldn't bring the point of his naginata to bear around fast enough. I hit him in the chest with the first punch, and he shrank away from the second; somehow, he managed to catch the third. Then I realised I was too close.  
  
_-Damn!_  
  
He smiled through the pain. "Not bad."  
  
Then I felt the hand around my caught punch close like an iron vice. Thankfully, he didn't crush it.  
  
Not-so thankfully, he swung me around, hung the arm over the naginata, and bent the arm sideways. I gave a yell of pain, and then the pressure on my arm intensified as he bent his weapon downward, increasing the angle.  
  
I was forced to my knees to prevent the arm from dislocating or snapping completely. I saw the mirthless smile on his face as he vaulted up over the weapon, pinned me to the floor, and swung himself down the pole of the naginata like some sort of poledance that I had seen once in the raunchy videos that the male cadets of the SFMA had kept around.  
  
Except this time the poledancer came down feet first into my chest. Something gave.  
  
Yes, ow.  
  
He pulled his naginata from the ground and I quivered, a little ball of agony welling up. I was sure that at least a rib was crushed, or something. Hurt way too much.  
  
"Not bad, not bad at all." He was saying. I was in too much pain to notice half of what he was talking about. "Even for just a kid. You're no match for an Imperial Dragoon, kid. Admit it."  
  
He turned his back.

* * *

Wedge parried the first kick, and moved sideways out of the palmstrike that followed. He retaliated with a two-punch combo that his female opponent dodged.  
  
'Interesting.' Kyrina thought. She was faster and more agile, and possibly more skilled as well. However, Wedge was stronger and could take the punishment, and man, did he hit hard. 'Not a problem...' The chain of thought continued. 'As long as I don't let him hit me...'  
  
Her hazel eyes snapped out of focus as she stepped in too close, just once, and was the recipient of an elbow that clocked her in the stomach. Doubling over, she let the dragoon pick her up and suplex her into the floor headfirst.  
  
Wedge stood over her, the end of a well-chewed toothpick back in his mouth. "Too bad, girl. You not in my class."  
  
Kyrina let the rage build up. "Oh yeah?" She twisted, leg sweeping across and flooring the dragoon as well. She executed a perfect vertical standup manuever and handflipped, coming down with all her body weight and pinning Wedge to the ground. "No, I'm not in your class. I'm in a different one entirely."  
  
"Really?" Wedge said, staring into her cleavage exposed by an artful rip in the collar. "...Can't I join, neh?"  
  
The girl raised an eyebrow. "...Neh." Then she stood up again, clamped both feet around the side of the dragoon's head, and leaned back.  
  
The dragoon was catapulted up and forward into a wall. "....Ow." He muttered coherently. "Does every guy go through this just to get you to pick up his bar tab?"  
  
"You should try hitting on me." Kyrina quipped, looking at the body of the dragoon. Then she was victim to the old trick; a leg sweep. She went through a second of berating herself on how stupid it had been to get that close, anyway. Floored, the combatants both stood up.  
  
Wedge was the first to move, one arm up defensively and the other extended. Kyrina was faster, though. Grabbing the extended limb, she jerked downward, slid through the dragoon's legs, nabbed the issue plasma pistol that every Imperial trooper held on his person, and pointed it between Wedge's legs.  
  
"No, no, no, no, wait..." Wedge yammered. "Can't we talk about this? I mean, I'm sorry 'bout the suplex an' all that, but..."  
  
The barrel of the plasma pistol shone blue with energy. Kyrina grinned wolfishly. "Your ego could use a little smackdown."  
  
"No, please!" The dragoon cringed at the thought of losing both his dignity and his manhood in one shot. "Please don't!"  
  
Kyrina sighed. "What's the name, soldier?"  
  
"Wedge, miss." For once in his life the dragoon spoke politely.  
  
"Well then, Wedge, welcome to Castration 101. First of all, your testosterone levels are sickeningly high." Kyrina smiled, enjoying the way the dragoon was cringing. "Learn a little humility and come back to see me next time."  
  
"NO!" Wedge's eyes widened in fear.  
  
Kyrina rose up and kneed him in the balls. The dragoon collapsed, in a personal little world of pain. "Count yourself lucky."  
  
"...th' pain..." Wedge whimpered.  
  
Kyrina looked at him. "Take two of these..." She slugged him twice across the jaw. "...and call me in the morning."  
  
Sighing, she left Wedge unconcious and retrieved her plasmacaster. Time to get out of here.

* * *

Alex ducked, wide-eyed, as the heavyset Biggs moved with the disturbing speed of the obese, blindingly fast. She countered, knocking a shelf of tins to the floor and using the distraction to back away. If she could whip out a spell...  
  
Biggs lunged. The girl was attractive, and he didn't want to hurt her... that thought went straight out the window as he saw the glimpse of steel meet his shockrod. A swipe downward was also parried, as the shockrod met resistance yet again. The terrorist looked into his eyes, and he saw the amusement. Amusement?  
  
No way. The Imperial Dragoons were one of the most famed fighting forces in the continent. Their silver battle armor and black uniform struck fear into the hearts of trooper and common folk alike. Amusement was not something Biggs was familiar with.  
  
A good scrap, now that was his forte. Using his superior strength, he pushed his weapon forward, forcing his opponent back. If he could just get closer...   
  
Alex attacked, the M41-A knife making the Dragoon back away. She was faster, though, and a thin line of crimson sprouted on Biggs' cheek. Grinning, she feinted low, and changed the attack midway to slash upwards in a move that would have probably gutted the Dragoon like a fish. However, Biggs wasn't a Dragoon for nothing. Seeing through the feint, he was able to block the oncoming attack, duck low, and slam a punch into the girl; she was knocked back.  
  
Grimacing, Alex cursed. She couldn't underestimate her opponent... that punch had hurt. Pain would slow her down more than she liked to admit.  
  
Sirens continued to wail outside. She had to finish this fast, before the gate through the Shield-Wall was locked down and reinforcements arrived...  
  
The Dragoon smiled wanly. No match for him, after all... He thumbed a button on the hilt of the shockrod, and it began humming audibly with electricity. Alex's eyes widened.  
  
Biggs attacked, a three-hit combo that was blocked with the flat of Alex's knife. Sparks scattered from every point of impact, electricity coursing along the blade. Alex thanked her lucky stars that the grip of her knife was insulated, otherwise she would have been on the receiving end of a few thousand very painful volts of electricity. Frowning, the Dragoon pressed the advantage; Alex dodged another slash before turning tail and running deeper into the store, seeking solace in the darkness.  
  
The SFMA cadet looked around her. Something she could use...  
  
Biggs shifted his grip on the shockrod, holding it downward like a dagger. Skulking low, he flowed towards Alex, past aisles of foodstuffs and bottles of alcohol. Alex moved backwards, searching for something; anything. Running across one of the fallen tins, she slid past, nabbing it. Catching a glimpse of movement in the aisle across, Alex let it hang in midair, before twisting her body around and slamming a powerful kick into the tin.  
  
The dragoon had just enough time to throw himself sideways as a 300g tin of chicken soup crumpled against a wall behind him. "Holy SHIT!"  
  
Alex ripped a set of small kitchen knives out of their plastic wrapping, a slightly evil grin on her face as she prepared a fan of the dangerous metal implements. Then Biggs was charging towards her, yelling in fury.  
  
She twirled gracefully, one knife after another leaving her palms, seven in total. The dragoon ducked the first one, swatted three more out of the air with the shockrod, and then tripped on a loose tin, as the remaining knives zinged past him and shattered a few bottles of wine.  
  
Biggs looked up just as Alex clocked him with a wine bottle, shattering it and sending the dragoon into the nice little world of dreams.  
  
"Goodnight." Alex muttered, before taking off silently.  
  
At the door, as if reconsidering, she stopped. Turning back, she looked at the dragoon. "...Dibolt."  
  
Suffice to say Biggs didn't get up again.

* * *

Here was my chance.  
  
Ignoring the pain in my left side, I struggled to my feet. My opponent whirled with a shocked look on his face. Apparently he had assumed me either dead or unconcious. I really didn't care.  
  
I rushed him... had to be faster, before he could swing the naginata around...  
  
Not fast enough. I had to duck the first swipe, and he flicked the weapon upwards, changing his grip so he could execute a vertical slash that would probably slice me in half lengthways. Grimacing, I concentrated. I could hear the hum of the weapon as it passed through the air, hopefully not a subsonic edge.   
  
...Now!  
  
I clasped my hands together, a foot above my head, and catching the blade beneath my palms. The sheer force of the blow caused me to fall to one knee, pushing me down.   
  
He hung there for what seemed like eternity as time took a coffee break. Then it returned, with a spare cappucino, and those nice little coffee mints.  
  
The trooper slid down the length of the naginata to plant a foot in my face. I was knocked back, but the attack had been weak, and I now had his weapon. Gripping the spear firmly, I gave a cry of fury and snapped it over my knee.  
  
In case anybody says 'Oh yeah. He snapped a naginata. No biggie' I need to stress it like this: imagine someone wanging a heavy metal bar, around a inch thick and three feet long, down on your knee. Fractured kneecaps, hello.  
  
But I did it.  
  
Taking the now much shorter, bladed end of the naginata in my right hand and grasping it easily, I took deep, ragged breaths, facing my opponent once more. He smiled wanly.  
  
"Like you said..." I hissed. "Not bad at all."  
  
Then I flung out my impromptu sword. It span in an arc, straight for the trooper in my way. Predictably, he swung out a sidearm plasma pistol one-handed, took aim, and fired. It was a hell of a shot - the plasma found solid purchase against the spinning blade, forcing the lethal edge off on a tangent covered in bubbling blue plasma energy.  
  
The split second he had needed to make that shot had been all I needed. I finally managed to attack. Finally.  
  
My left palm brushed the barrel of the plasma pistol away from my face as my right hit him square in the jaw. I felt his face sag sideways from the force of the punch. Not allowing any time for him to react, I snapped the punch downwards into an elbow, impacting against his chest, and that flowed into a kick to the stomach. As he doubled over, I span on one heel, pivoting and knocking the plasma pistol out of his grasp.  
  
He looked up into my eyes, motionless for two seconds.  
  
Then I squeezed all my remaining energy and strength into my fist, all of it, and landed a massive uppercut to his jaw.  
  
He jerked upwards and landed on his back, out cold on ice.  
  
I finally allowed myself to collapse.

* * *

"Rain! RAIN!!!"  
  
The dreamer came to as his name was yelled. "...Uuuuhh... I got him."  
  
"I can tell." Kyrina looked at the KO'ed body of Kyle. "He's still AWOL."  
  
Alex didn't share in the mood. "We have to get out of here! More of the Imperial Guard could be here any second to check out the crash of the APC!"  
  
Rain flung one arm out in the direction of the exit, the area unprotected by the Shield-Wall. "There..." He grabbed his ashandarei and supported himself as he struggled to his feet.  
  
Spotting a car, Kyrina dashed to it. "Come on!"  
  
Mr. Everyday Shopper got a surprise when a brown-haired girl knocked on his window. Being the fool he was, he opened it. "Is there something wr-"  
  
Kyrina's elbow hit him in the face. Opening the door through the window, she dumped the knocked-out form of Mr. Everyday Shopper out and gestured to Alex, who was supporting Rain. "I'm driving this time." Kyrina muttered, before wrenching the keys in the ignition, slamming the door, and hitting the gas.  
  
The cute little sedan vehicle, best suited for inner city travel and transport, smashed through the electric glass doors with little effort, sped down a ramp, and was outside the Imperial City before anybody could say "Call the MEDUSA!"  
  
Alex laid back, but not before casting a Cure spell on Rain. "So... where do we go now...?"  
  
"We look for Patch." Rain sighed, pulled the handheld computer unit from his by-now very-beat-up backpack, and started up the Durandal file. "Then I am getting the hell out of this universe."  
  
For once, Alex didn't argue.

* * *

"Cap'n?... CAP'N?"  
  
The dragoon came to as Wedge yelled, groaning. He had one mother of a headache. That kid may have just been a kid, but MAN did he hit hard. Blinking, he looked at Wedge. "...Where's Biggs?"  
  
"Right here." Biggs grumbled, holding a frozen lump of meat over his forehead. "That fool girl hit me with a wine bottle!"  
  
"Don't ask 'bout th' meat." Wedge advised. "They started fightin' in a store." He gestured to the store across from the smoking wreckage of the APC. "Don't blame me, I nearly lost m' manhood."  
  
Kyle raised an eyebrow, before thinking better of asking and getting to his feet. He sighed as he looked at the remains of his naginata. And it was new, as well...  
  
"The Imperial Guard here yet?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Biggs rolled his eyes to the end of the street, where the red-uniformed Imperial Guard were already fencing off the crash site of the APC with yellow security tape. "Late as usual. I swear, if it weren't for us Dragoons, the Imperial Army would ne'er get anything done."  
  
The Dragoon Captain stopped, his heart sinking. "You're not telling me... they got away?"  
  
"All three of 'em." Wedge confirmed. "We're still tryin' to guess how they got here in the firs' place. Been askin' roun', and all the Imperial Guard tell us is dat they escaped fr'm TechDiv. Some high-secret 'ush-'ush."  
  
"The science sector?" Kyle muttered. Nobody answered.  
  
Sighing, the Dragoon Captain got to his feet. "We'll have to report this to Rezo and his bunch of government cronies. Can't have people just coming into the City and causing chaos."  
  
Biggs grunted and shifted the frozen meat. "These 'terrorists' were just KIDS, for cryin' out loud! How'd they beat us-"  
  
"That's what I want to know as well." Kyle said, feeling in his heart of hearts that bad times were coming. "That's what I want to know."  
  
Wedge didn't mention to his captain what Kyrina had told him. It was a pity he didn't, because a whole lot of other mysteries would have been cleared up if he had. However, that's not the way the story goes.  
  
And in the bowels of TechDiv, the Imperial Empire had no idea of how the bad times were coming, or even just how bad they were going to get. For they were going to get very bad indeed.

* * *

Renaku smiled thinly as the security camera from TechDiv showed three figures making their way through the mazelike corridors, not stopping for anything and hacking through whatever happened to be in their way. Not long ago.  
  
The traitor looked at the camera feed and smiled. Rain was back. He would enjoy their rematch when it came. It would be nice to see how much the boy had improved.  
  
But something that even Renaku had no idea of was happening. Slowly at first, but it was coming. And it would be like a tornado, starting slow, but gathering energy and motion, purpose and force. The final fission would wipe away all before it came.  
  
For the cylinder of light in the Reality Engine was flickering. 


	18. DISK II: c3r3m0ny 0f 1nn0c3nc3

**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk two: se7en: ceremony of innocence  
  
**

* * *

Night in the Ryukin peninsula.  
  
The Ryukin were a peaceful people, most of the time. They didn't care what the Imperials thought of them; to themselves, they were an island cut off from the outside world, as different from the rest of the world as they could be. Rezo had held off attacking the Ryukin simply because he believed they were a barbarous people, ones that used swords still; something that seemed pathetically primitive to him. Surely the Ryukin were no threat-? They didn't have use of plasma weaponry, their science was primitive and useless, and even their magic was of less power and versatility.  
  
However, the Ryukin peninsula had an odd tendency to produce the highest amount of physically skilled personnel.  
  
Namely, assassins, ninjas, and spies.  
  
Only rumored, of course. But there were those that disappeared in the night, those that hid robes of black beneath their garments, and did the reaper's grim work.  
  
The Japanese culture that had ended in Neotokyo when the Earthbreaker Wars had begun had somehow leaked to the Ryukin - rumor had it that they were the remnants of the refugees fled from the original city of Tokyo when it had been destroyed. The architecture and culture of the place was strongly reminiscent of that of feudal Japan - pagodas were everywhere, lit by the soft silver gleam of the full moon. Sakura blossoms swayed gently in a breeze, the tiny pink flowers seeming almost a pale white in comparison to the dark blue shadows of the night.  
  
"You all right?"  
  
Patch.  
  
Sporting a few fresh battle scars, but still defiant as ever, the six-foot-six giant plodded around, his chest bare, revealing his battle-worn frame. A damp towel was draped around his shoulders - at his size, it looked like a rather large facecloth. His trooper issue M41-A knife still rested at his belt, un-modded and original in design. He had refused to change it from what it was. And you never caught him unarmed, either.  
  
"...I'm...okay. I think."  
  
Tara.  
  
Troubled green eyes shone with a strange hint of sea-blue in the darkness. Her usually flamboyant red hair was done conservatively, in a tight bun finished off with a pair of needles. She wore a dark purple kimono that hung off her, loose yet comfortable.  
  
"You sure...?" Patch pressed on, mopping his sweaty brow with the towel. "I just got done sparring with one of the Ryukin guys, and he gave me a good beating. Nothing a fight won't cure..."  
  
Tara smiled wanly, turning to him. "...It's okay... it's just... this place brings back memories."  
  
Patch paused. "Oh. ...Okay."  
  
After she had helped him escape from the Imperial holding cell, she had brought him here, blowing up a few MEDUSA factories along the way. Ryukin. A peaceful enough city from the looks of it, but it was apparently Tara's hometown. Which came along with it's own share of problems.  
  
A new figure spoke, and Patch started. He hadn't even heard this one approach - ! "Well well well. The prodigal daughter has returned." Icy, cold, even though the Basic was slightly stunted and accented in the lilting tones of Nipponese.  
  
Tara turned. "I don't remember it being any of YOUR business, Harumi!"  
  
Patch paused, turning to face the sound of the voice. Harumi, was it? "When we meet people, we introduce ourselves. So who exactly are you?"  
  
"Watashi wa Harumi-desu." She bowed, and Tara flushed, although it had been a purely respectful gesture. "And you are Patch Randell, 5th Lieutenant, of the former rebel group known as the Zero-Seven."  
  
The massive man in question inclined his head. "And you were referring to-"  
  
"You mean you don't know?" Harumi looked slightly pained, her dark black hair kept out of her vision through some clever trick accomplished with a pair of hairpins and some blind luck. "Even you, as an outsider, should know-"  
  
"What exactly should I know?" Patch hissed, cutting her off. "I don't exactly speak Nipponese that well..."  
  
Harumi paused. He still couldn't see her eyes clearly- "Sumimasen... I just thought you should know - Tara is an outcast. She was cast out from within the ranks of the kunoichi after choosing a life of no honor."  
  
"And what life without honor-"  
  
Tara replied this time, more coldly than he'd heard her ever speak during the whole time he had known her. "That of a thief, Patch. A thief." Then she was gone, striding silently away from them both.  
  
"She is no longer part of the family." Harumi said. "It was unwise of her to come back here with you in tow. Already rumors abound of how the dishonored kunoichi has come back with her new husband."  
  
Patch took a step back, shaking his head. "I need a drink."

* * *

Interesting... Catherine thought as she strode along, still clad in her black cloak. The kanji were indeed a beautiful form of literature, but what was strange was that they seemed to pulse with some sort of power, almost... like a materia...  
  
"Konbanwa, Catherine-san." An old voice, cracking slightly, almost like aged wood, spoke from behind her, and she whirled. For cryin' out loud, she hadn't even heard him sneak up-!  
  
Her knife was in her hands before she could speak, and by then it was too late to recover herself gracefully. Embarrassment held under a veneer of anger, she resheathed the knife. "Sumimasen, Murasaki-san." She spoke. "I'm just a little... jumpy."  
  
"Maybe letting off some stress would help you relax?" The old man said, gesturing to the large room lit by lantern. "A fight cures all, as they say."  
  
"I'd really rather not-" Catherine started to speak, but then thought better of it. And hey, what could these primitive, cultural people fling at her that she couldn't handle? Their magic was weak and they didn't have plasma technology to rival that of the Imperial Empire. Maybe she, by defeating whatever this old fool set before her, could prove the overall superiority of the Imperial Empire over all...? "...challenge accepted."  
  
The old man seemed to smile. "Such eagerness for the fight.... and such vitality in youth..." He sighed, then replied. "No-holds barred, you may use any weapon you like... and your opponent is..."  
  
Catherine readied herself, keeping the words to a spell fresh in her mind as well as her long knife in her hand while casting her shadowy black cloak off, leaving her in a black turtleneck and long slacks that didn't inhibit movement.  
  
"...Me." The old man spoke, and Catherine nearly lost her balance.  
  
Fuming in rage at her apparent slip, Catherine snarled. "So be it. Let me just warn you; I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're probably five decades older than I am. I am a servant of the Imperial Empire and can take justification for killing you."  
  
"As you wish." The old man said, not questioning why Catherine was still a servant of the Imperial Empire after her betrayal.  
  
Catherine closed her eyes, concentrating.  
  
And charged, knife held outstretched in her left hand, curving downward to complete a crescent slash, more often than not followed with a two-stroke combo that could leave an opponent bleeding, at least if not managing to score off an appendage.  
  
However, her stroke met air as the old man seemingly disappeared without having moved and reappeared behind her.  
  
"Funny, that." The old man said, smiling gently, without rancor. "I could have sworn you hit me that time..."  
  
Catherine shelved her shock and surprise, whirling to slash downward, hoping to catch him-  
  
-and he moved his foot over the slash before stamping down hard on the blade, trapping her blade arm. As she raised her hand with a superhuman effort, he stood there calmly, balancing cleanly on the edge of her knife.  
  
"Too hasty, youth these days." The old man said ruefully. "Always so hasty..." He jumped up, and came down, staff first, in a move that Catherine only just dodged in time, as the staff penetrated the floor of the dojo and ripped into the ground beyond.  
  
Catherine crept to the edge of the hole and looked down... holy crap... how in the hell did he do that---  
  
"Above you?" Murasaki said cheerfully before dropping from the ceiling and giving her a gentle rap on the back with his cane that was just enough to imbalance her and send her tripping into the hole in the floor.  
  
Snarling, the Imperial scientist got to her feet. The old bastard was fast, dammit- "Howling breath of winter, freeze the blood- DI-ICE!!!"  
  
"Playing dirty now, are we?" The old man watched as the air began to solidify around him, on the way to encasing him in a block of ice. "...Flames... to me!" His body shone as if in a shimmering layer of white fire, burning away the frost. "You have a lot to learn about the Ryukin, Catherine-san."  
  
Impossible -! The Ryukin were said to be primitive people, sticking firmly to tradition and family values instead of embracing the age of science; even their magic was lowly when compared to the summoning magics and mastered materia of the Imperial Empire- Catherine seriously started to doubt intel in the Imperial Empire was as good as it was supposed to be...  
  
"I am sorry, Catherine-san, but I've promised a good friend of mine a game of chess that I've just remembered I will be late for..." The old man said, landing on his feet, unruffled, with the same damned kindly smile on his face. "You have a lot to learn about the world, my child. Humble yourself and seek the value of the fight in calm, and then you will truly become a master of the art. But until then..."  
  
Catherine panted. What was he going to do-  
  
He launched into a blurring series of cane strikes, everywhere - on her hands, on her torso, on her back, moving so fast all she saw was a blur, hitting her again and again- she tried to block, but there were just too many, everywhere, she was on her knees now, wincing every time the cane whistled through the air viciously to land with a stinging crack on her flesh...  
  
She couldn't defend, she couldn't attack, the old bastard was all around her-  
  
"Power of sacred flame, challenge the one before me! _Kaseihi_!" The old man spoke, thrusting his arm out, two fingers extended. A bright globe of flame burst into life, streaking straight for her, knocking her flying-  
  
What the HELL-  
  
"Sayonara, Catherine-san. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fight a truly skilled opponent." Murasaki said, before smiling contendedly and stepping out the sliding door, leaving the great Imperial scientist and dark mage Catherine Shaw a quivering mass of bruises on the dojo floor.  
  
Murasaki's wife chided him. "You shouldn't torture the poor girl so; you have no idea what she's going through."  
  
"A little discipline never hurt much, Izumi." Murasaki said ruefully. "Besides, she needed to be taught some measure of respect for her elders."  
  
Izumi paused and stared down her husband. "What are you going to do now that Tara has returned - ? Harumi has been jealous of her ability and gifts for who knows how long, not to mention little Mayuki-chan... we cannot let this tear the family apart..."  
  
Murasaki held his wife closer. "I know, I know. But we cannot set a future for our children... we have to let them choose their own paths. Like birds in the sky, they will eventually learn to fly..."

* * *

Tara sighed. She should have known going home with two wanted people - one a former servant of the Imperial Empire, no less! - would have caused it's own share of problems.  
  
"Oneesan?" A small voice said. "Why's your hair all funny now?"  
  
The thief smiled. "Hello, Mayuki."  
  
Her youngest sister did a flying glomp; tackling her older sibling to the floor. "I missed you, oneesan!"  
  
"Ow, watch it." Tara grinned good-naturedly as her little sister's elbows dug into her stomach. "And like the hair?"  
  
As mentioned before, Tara was a redhead. However, that was not her original hair color. It could be noticed that neither Murasaki or Izumi, her parents, had red hair. Tara had chosed to dye her hair red when she left the way of the kunoichi forever, to act as a symbol of shedding her old life and adopting a new one. She was a thief. She had been an Imperial assassin. And frankly, now neither world welcomed her.  
  
"I liked it better black." Mayuki pouted, her eight-year-old frame pinning down her sister. "Why did you leave?"  
  
Tara's voice cracked. "...I... You wouldn't understand." She finished lamely.  
  
"Was Harumi being mean to you again?" The little girl sniffed, burying her face in Tara's stomach. "She's always mean to me. She took my kendo and snapped it in half! Something about little girls not being suited to fight..."  
  
Tara got up, helping her youngest sibling to her feet. "Don't you worry about Harumi. You're all grown up now. You have to learn how to take care of yourself."  
  
"Yeah, I'm all growed up!" Mayuki said, her grasp of Basic still slightly stunted. Tara couldn't help but laugh.  
  
Then running footsteps could be heard. Yells. Alarms.  
  
The thief looked out on the moonlit scene. "What now?"  
  
Patch arrived, the sound of his running having carried over to her. "We're in deep shit."  
  
"What's wrong?" Tara said, holding Mayuki tighter.  
  
"They've blocked off the peninsula." Patch said dully. "They've found us."  
  
Tara did not have to ask who.

* * *

Yes, after a long, long period of not being involved in worldly affairs, the small village peninsula of the Ryukin were indeed in deep shit. At first, they did not notice exactly how much shit they were in. It was a brash young kid who had spotted a figure clad in black on one of the pagoda rooftops first, and being the testosterone-charged teenager he was, he had tried to take on the figure himself.  
  
In fact, he was confident enough in doing so, and justly so. He had been trained in the art of the fight since he was seven. He had learned some of the basic Ryukin art, such as the Silence Wall. He knew at least fifty ways of taking someone down with his bare hands.  
  
However, he was no match for the plasma handcannon that fired around five rounds into his torso. Then he saw that it was not just one figure.  
  
Around fifty, in fact, dotted around the rooftops.  
  
He screamed, just as one last plasma salvo tore off the side of his head and he was silenced forever.  
  
"What now?" Murasaki said, heaving his old frame up and grabbing his cane. "I swear, I are getting too old for this-"  
  
The sliding door to his apartment burst open, revealing a BlackOp. An Imperial BlackOp, clad in the nightgear of nearly invisible black against the night and highlights of dark red. An Imperial BlackOp in full gear, including helmet. No doubt the helmet was fitted with nightvision; the faceplate was opaque.  
  
"Now, what would a gentleman like yourself be doing here?" Murasaki said, ignoring the small shiver that went down his back. The Imperial BlackOp elite seemed almost inhuman at times, what with all the gear and weaponry strapped on their person... "Sake? Women? Entertainment?"  
  
"We demand to know the whereabouts of three fugitives you harbor." The BlackOp said, voice coming through a small speaker grille in the 'mouth' of the helmet, processed sound coming out almost as a grating whine.  
  
Murasaki's mouth went dry. "...What fugitives?" However, he had hesitated just too long. The BlackOp hefted its plasma rifle and pointed it at Izumi.  
  
"Surrender the fugitives." The BlackOp continued. "Or we start killing."  
  
Murasaki's mind was in turmoil. His daughter or his wife? The Imperials had never come like this to Ryukin before...  
  
And could he really be faster than a plasma weapon?  
  
He sighed. His life had been a long one. It was time to play dice with it once more. "You want to start killing?" He muttered, barely above his breath. "Try me."  
  
He moved just as the BlackOp's finger tensed on the trigger. Shining blue bolts of plasma streamed outward towards Izumi. Murasaki threw himself in front of the trajectory of the plasma just in time...  
  
"...Shield!" He gasped, using one of the higher levels of Ryukin magic. A purple globe of energy encased him for a few seconds, not much, but the plasma bounced off it uselessly. Murasaki dropped to the floor, gasping. He had forgotten just how much juice that ninja art needed...  
  
Izumi rushed to his side. "Murasaki-"  
  
"Don't." The old man rose to his feet once more, his cane gripped firmly in his knuckles, pushing his wife away from him. "Run! Get away from here!"  
  
"It's useless." The BlackOp said. "We've blocked off the peninsula. Nobody is escaping here." He watched as Izumi fled helplessly. "And everybody in the peninsula is dying unless the fugitives are found."  
  
Murasaki paused, sensing something familiar about this one... "Who are you..."  
  
The BlackOp paused, dropping his heavy plasma rifle, before removing his helmet. A hiss of escaping gas accompanied the removal of headgear.  
  
And Murasaki was left staring at a face from his past. "...You!"  
  
Raven hair. Oddly beautiful features that looked wrong on a male. The same small smile.  
  
"Hello, _sensei_." Renaku said, drawing his own katana. "It's been a long time."

* * *

"You're right." Tara said, peering through the undergrowth across the small, 100-foot wide or so strip of land that separated the peninsula from the mainland. "They've got it locked down. BlackOps crawling everywhere."  
  
"No MEDUSA, though." Patch said, now sporting a plasma rifle. "They shouldn't have come here." He paused. "Something's bothering me, though... we covered our tracks really, really well. How could they have found us?"  
  
Tara shook her red mane. "I told you not to bring that Imperial bitch with us."  
  
"Catherine?"  
  
"She's probably traded us in." Tara sighed. "Us for her status as one of the Imperials once more."  
  
Patch frowned. "She wouldn't do that... would she?"  
  
"Never trust one of them." Tara said icily.  
  
"You didn't see her though." Patch was adamant. "She tried to kill Renaku!"  
  
"Probably all enacted so they could gain our trust." Tara shot back, keeping her voice down as to not attract the attention of the BlackOps only twenty feet or so away. "You know what they're like; you met Rezo yourself."  
  
"And let me note what you said to gain OUR trust." Patch said, this time addressing Tara. "Were you that trustworthy then?"  
  
Tara closed her eyes. "That's different."  
  
Patch pressed on. "How so?"  
  
A new voice spoke, startling them both. "As pleasing as it is to see your confidence in me, I think we should all know the truth."  
  
They both turned to see Catherine, cloaked and hooded in the dark mage garb, her face an impassive mask. "Someone sold us out. Someone told the Imperials we were here. And that person is none other than..." She pushed a bound and gagged form in front of her. "Your dear sister."  
  
Tara's eyes opened wide. "Harumi-!"  
  
Patch sighed. "I should have seen this coming."  
  
Harumi's eyes were brimming with fury, even as Tara removed the gag. "Why did you do it?" She said, almost crying. "Do you hate me that much?"  
  
The younger ninja's eyes gleamed. "You are a disgrace to the Ryukin and our family. You should not have come back. You had the gift for it... you had the ability, and you left. You thought you were better than we were. Just because you had the ability."  
  
Tara's eyes felt hot with tears. "No. It's not like that at all..."  
  
"What ability?" Patch said bluntly. "I have the feeling I'm missing something here..."  
  
Catherine filled the silence. "Out of Murasaki's three daughters, she is the only one to have shown an immediate aptitude for magic," She said tonelessly. "Although the child Mayuki may hold some hidden potential..."  
  
"Get real." Patch grunted. "You're telling me she sold us out because she was JEALOUS?"  
  
"She is a disgraced ninja." Harumi spoke. "She is not deserving of the ability. She left to join the ranks of the Imperial assassins and thieves... murderers, all of them. Just because she could wield magic. True magick. The one commodity that makes the art of the Ryukin seem paltry in comparison."  
  
Tara sobbed, before getting to her feet, and running. Running, always running... away from this world, away...  
  
"Wait-" Patch nearly shouted, before remembering that they were only a few feet away from Imperial BlackOps that wanted them dead or worse. Sighing, he picked up the bound Harumi and hefted her on his back. "We'd better get back and figure out a plan of escape before they start combing the area... I hope you're happy, girl. You just sold out your own sister."  
  
"She is not my sister anymore." Harumi retorted, right before Catherine waved her hand once, and she lost the ability to speak. She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.  
  
Catherine smirked. "Silence."

* * *

Tara cried.  
  
Not for the first time either.  
  
She brought out her sai, and gently touched a small red orb in the base of her left blade. It slowly turned a pale ice-blue as her magic shone into it...  
  
_You hurt_. Shiva said in her mind. _I feel your pain_.  
  
Tara wiped her face on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I don't want others to feel my pain. I keep it all inside. I... I... don't want to hurt anyone."  
  
_You can only hold it inside for so long_. Shiva said. Sage advice from the goddess of ice. _Until you break._  
  
"My family... they hate me."  
  
_That's not true. Your parents still love you. And look at Mayuki. She missed you when you left._  
  
Tara drew her legs up, hugging her knees and curling up into a tight ball. "And I miss Rain."  
  
_The human boy...? Do you hold affection for him, or was it just to fulfill his trust so that you could fulfill your mission? Was your love for him real?_  
  
"I don't KNOW!!!" Tara said, out loud, screaming into the night. "I really don't know!"  
  
_You are.... confused_.  
  
Tara collapsed, breathing heavily. "No shit."  
  
Shiva didn't break poise at the expletive. _I can sense your emotion. You don't know which way to turn.  
_  
The red-haired girl stared at the dirt, feeling a pair of icy hands place themselves on her shoulders. "I..."  
  
_It will work out in the end_. Shiva said. _....Look_.  
  
Tara turned from her spot on the beach that made up the east side of the Ryukin peninsula to see and hear a distant explosion. "...That's from-"  
  
_Yes. The Imperials are here_. The Mistress of Winter whispered into her head. _You must go_.  
  
Tara closed her eyes and closed off the tap of magic into the summon materia, as Shiva's presence faded from her mind. Making a mental note to thank Shiva once more, she concentrated, focusing the magic. It ran through her blood, liquid energy, born from the power of the planet itself since time immemorial. This was her ability. This was her power.  
  
She could use magic.  
  
"....Earth, lend speed to my path, grant me the quickness of the currents untold! Haste!" Magic, true magic, not materia-held magic, but actual magic, swirled around her body, encasing her for a second in gold light.  
  
Tara ran, the world slowing down behind her.

* * *

Murasaki coughed painfully as Renaku ground a heel into the small of his back. He wouldn't last long... he was old, however much he liked to take advantage of the respect that earned him, it was a disability in a fight. He wasn't as spry as he once was...  
  
Renaku grabbed the old man, a vicelike grip around his neck, before flinging him casually away, into a wall. The indent he left was sizeable, and the old man dropped once more, limply...  
  
Hand to hand, Renaku was no true match for him. However...  
  
"Flames of the earth, fire of the sun, lend your energy to become an inferno... the perfect blaze! Tri-Fire!"  
  
...in a battle of magic, he was at a true disadvantage.  
  
"Shield!" He gasped, but it was too late. A huge globe of shining flame enveloped him, spontaneously igniting the air within. Murasaki screamed as the fires of the planet itself enveloped him, engulfing him in the warmth of pyrokinetics.  
  
When it was over, the old monk collapsed, taking ragged breaths.  
  
Renaku was still unharmed. "You know what they call me now? A _ronin_. A dishonoured samurai." He rolled the word 'ronin' over his tongue slowly, as if savoring the taste. Then he spat. "I am commander of the Imperial forces, I am an elite BlackOp trooper. What is dishonorable about that!"  
  
"...You forsake the teachings of the Ryukin-"  
  
"And your own daughter didn't?" Renaku hissed. "She has now trained her capability in magic to a high degree, and her full potential has yet to be unlocked."  
  
"Tara..." Murasaki spoke through cracked, fire-seared lips. "She is not yours to judge!"  
  
Renaku flicked a patch of ash off his BlackOp uniform. "No matter. We will find her, the terrorist, and the traitor soon enough."  
  
"You talk of being a traitor?" Murasaki laughed, although it hurt his lungs. He coughed blood. "What happened to your old friends in the Zero-Seven, _ronin_? Rezo pay more than most?"  
  
Renaku sheathed his sword. "You are not worthy to die by my blade." He picked up the plasma rifle from where it had fallen and primed it. "I shall kill you with this instead to prove the superiority of modern technology over your pitiful monk arts."  
  
"...Fire..." Murasaki shuddered. "So beautiful..."  
  
Renaku paused. "Any last words?"  
  
"....flame... take me alive, consume my soul, let my last act be performed as an act of sacrifice... grant me the fire, grant me the fire of death, for there can be no life without death...."  
  
Renaku's eyes widened. "What are you doing-!"  
  
"...and death, I dance with you, amidst the flames..." Murasaki drew a breath, hoping he could finish this. He had to. For his family. For the honor of the Ryukin. For the sake of ridding the world of this ronin. "..._FIRE DANCE_!!!"  
  
Flames, not orange, but as red as blood, erupted from the old man, tripling in size, surrounding him. Spinning wildly, Murasaki headed for Renaku, as the fire began to consume his soul.  
  
Burning alive.  
  
Fire filled the room.  
  
And yet Murasaki did not scream. He did not fear death, he welcomed it, he courted the flames that seared him from every angle.  
  
Renaku's eyes widened, as the burning Murasaki lunged for him, holding him in a vicelike grip around the torso. He was knocked over, and yelled as the fires that burned the old man began to eat through his body armor...  
  
_-Impossible-_  
  
Kicking the burning body away from him, Renaku raised the plasma rifle and let rip. However, the streaks of blue blended into the red and were lost, the body of flame coming towards him, finally gripping Renaku around the neck, the grip searing his flesh where it touched.  
  
Renaku snarled. No way was he dying at the hands of his teacher-  
  
Drawing his sword, in one smooth motion, he stabbed it through. The burning Murasaki seemed almost to gasp, before he took his last breath, Renaku's sword finding the old man's heart.

* * *

A little girl strode through the death and destruction. The Ryukin had held. They had denied holding fugitives, denied in the face of death, all of them. Every last man and woman. And for that, the order had been given to kill.  
  
Bodies of women holding children, men with mouths still open where plasma had scored holes throught their corpses; it was a short fight. Everywhere, people died.  
  
And through it all Mayuki walked, forlorn and scared.  
  
"..._Otosan_...?" (Daddy?) She spoke. "...._Otosan_?" A long and pitiful wail, one of a child alone in the world.  
  
Two BlackOp dropped down from the roof ahead of her. Behind them, Mayuki could see the house of her parents, the dojo, on fire. Still burning from the TriFire spell.  
  
Her eyes grew wet with tears. "Have you two seen my _okaasan_?" (mother)  
  
"Should we kill her?" One BlackOp said. He was taller.  
  
The shorter BlackOp shook his head. "She's just a kid. What can she do?"  
  
"Excuse me, mister..." Mayuki repeated, on the verge of crying. "Where is my father?"  
  
The taller BlackOp turned away. "Let's go. Renaku wants us to finish combing this place. Whole damn night's been a waste, nobody's found nothing yet."  
  
The shorter BlackOp sighed. "You go on ahead. I've got something to... uh... take care of."  
  
"You're a sucker for kids, you know that?" The taller one said. "This is why you're still not promoted yet. You can't follow orders."  
  
"I didn't see orders to kill every kid I see!" The shorter one shot back. "Just because I have a heart doesn't mean I can't be a BlackOp!"  
  
The taller BlackOp coughed uncomfortably. "Dude, we're trained to kill. We're made to kill. Our gear is made for the purpose of killing people more efficiently. We are the death-dealers."  
  
"Fuck off." The shorter one said, kneeling down, face-to-face with the girl. "...I'm sure your father is fine."  
  
The taller one took off. "I'm getting the fuck outa here."  
  
As Mayuki stared into the helmet of the BlackOp, the man got the feeling that he just couldn't lie to this girl. He just couldn't. Innocent eyes in a childish face... He couldn't kill her, he couldn't lie to her-  
  
"My daddy is dead, isn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
The BlackOp drew back, shocked. "What makes you say that?"  
  
Mayuki pointed at the dojo. "That's my home."  
  
The BlackOp paused. "...I'm sorry, kid, but that's just the way it is. ...I just follow orders, that's my job. Even though I don't think they're that... right sometimes."  
  
"Why do you follow orders if they're not right?" The little girl said.  
  
For once, the smart-aleck BlackOp had no answer.  
  
Then a practice kendo sword caught him on the shoulder and he was flung over sideways. More shocked than anything else, he turned to the attack-  
  
-to see an old woman, standing protectively in front of the little girl.  
  
"You stay the HELL away from my daughter! You... you MONSTER!!!" The old woman could not have been a day younger than seventy, yet a fire was in her eyes that would have made anybody in her right mind step back.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, it's my job-"  
  
The old woman stepped forward, way too fast, and struck him in the face, the wooden kendo sword cracking his faceplate. "You... murderer! Beast!"  
  
The BlackOp raised up his hands to defend himself, but he was facing the righteous fury of a mother protecting her child. And against that there was no defence.  
  
"I'll kill you! You..." Tears appeared in her eyes. "I won't let you hurt her! You'll have to go through me-"  
  
Then three plasma bolts hit her. One in the stomach, one in the chest, and one in her left hand. She collapsed, the kendo sword falling from limp fingers. Mayuki cried out as her mother Izumi fell.  
  
"You okay?" The taller BlackOp had returned. He was the one who had fired. He was laughing. "Damn, man, she was an old woman, and she was kicking your ass!"  
  
The shorter BlackOp stood, slowly. "......yeah."  
  
He had no idea why he felt... guilty.  
  
Mayuki knelt at the side of her mother, crying now. "..._Okaasan_...! Wake up, _okaasan_! ....please, please... just wake up!"  
  
Izumi Tetsuya drew a ragged breath. ".....Mayuki-chan... I'm... I'm proud... of you...." Her head lolled sideways, and then she was gone.  
  
"Damn bitch... they're all so goddamn skilled..." Taller said. "You should see Josh in Bravo team, one of the girls over the other side shoved one of those pointy star things in him. Went right through his armor. He returned the favor, shoving something else in her..." He laughed.  
  
The shorter BlackOp closed his eyes. Why did he feel so.... strange? Like his heart was about to rip in two... Whirling, he hit his partner with enough force to send him sprawling.  
  
"DAMN, that fucking HURT, you bastard!"  
  
The other BlackOp closed his eyes. "I can't do this anymore." And taking off his helmet, he raised his plasma pistol to the side of his own head.  
  
The zap of plasma rang through the clearing, only accompanied by the crackling of flame.  
  
"...fucking crazy bastard..." The other BlackOp said, before picking himself up and leaving, the two bodies and one young girl left behind. 


	19. DISK II: 4ng3lz 4nD D3m0nZ

* * *

The little sedan chugged resolutely across the sands, despite the fact that its current passengers had used it as an impromptu battering ram to escape from the walled city of the Imperials. It was a surprise it had even lasted this long: both Rain and Kyrina were harsh drivers, to say nothing of Alex's mad l33t ninja driving skeelz, or lack thereof.  
  
The vehicle shot across the landspace at high speeds, with three occupants, one of which was bored, one of which was sleeping, and one of which was trying to sleep.  
  
Naturally, it was the one driving who was bored. Otherwise there would have been a collision of quite serious circumstance, not least of all the probable termination of all aforementioned occupants.  
  
Durandal was the only occupant who did not require sleep. However, the small car, designed for light travel only, had no computer processing systems, so he could not wire into the vehicle and control via autopilot. So he simply acted as a GPS for Rain, who was at the wheel. Alex was already in the back sleeping contendedly, a small smile on her face as her hands unconciously caressed her materia.  
  
Kyrina - no, Kira, Rain reminded himself - was sitting in the front passenger seat, troubled eyes glazed and a large plasma rifle cradled in her arms. Totally unnecessary, as Durandal had scanned the area for a mile around, but better safe than sorry.  
  
She tilted her head sideways, trying to get to a more comfy position in the chair. The vehicle was not built for comfort, but she'd be damned if she didn't get at least a few hours of sleep...  
  
A small bandage over her head marked an area where Wedge had scored a hit during their daring escape. It was a serious bruise, but neither herself nor Alex had deigned it fit to use healing magic, Kyrina because she insisted it was "just a bruise" and Alex because she said it would drain her too much to be worthwhile.  
  
"So why'd you pick me up?" Kyrina asked. Being an honest believer in the truth that you fall asleep more slowly if you try, she tried to start up some semblance of a conversation with Rain. "You're not from this universe either, are you?"  
  
Rain sighed, holding onto the wheel with his right hand. "No, I'm not. I'm playing multidimensional chaffeur, and the only reason I'm here is because I'm doing a favor for a terrorist, who I widely believed to be dead up until a few hours ago."  
  
Kyrina paused. "Some relaxing morning walk, huh?"  
  
The teenage dreamer paused, not getting it, before realizing that they had offered to accompany Kyrina on a walk to get over her hangover before dragging her through the Reality Window. "...uh... yeah."  
  
For some reason, the way Kyrina stared at him made him strangely embarrassed. The chocolate-haired girl idly played with her ponytail, now in a single braid that hung to the middle of her back. "You okay?" She asked, both eyes now intently focused on him. "You seem... troubled."  
  
"Troubled is the worst of it." Rain said bitterly. "I just want to go home."  
  
"Where is... home?" Kyrina said. "I don't even know where mine is anymore... if you say I'm not from Tribe Omega..."  
  
"Home..." Rain's eyes glazed over, but he still maintained the presence of mind to keep his eyes on the road. "...Home is a place where someone cares about your wellbeing. Someplace where you can feel safe. Someplace where someone cares whether you live or die." The dreamer couldn't help it; his mind projected images of the orphanage where he had been brought up. "Home is someplace you feel loved."  
  
Kyrina closed her eyes. Rain didn't notice.  
  
"Home is somewhere that you worry about going too far from." Rain chuckled, both hands on the wheel now. "Home is somewhere you can relax after a good, long, hard day of work." Then his eyes grew cold. "...Home is... somewhere you belong."  
  
He looked sideways, but Kyrina was already asleep, a small smile on her face.  
  
Dreaming of home, no doubt.  
  
Rain looked at the road forward, a broad sea of darkness lit only barely by the jeep's headlights. Softly, he began to whistle, a lonely tune against the night.

* * *

  
**  
  
f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y  
  
an angelhawk studios production  
  
original concept by redshadow  
  
written by chaosrayne  
  
disk 2wo: 8ight: 4ngels anD d3m0ns**

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* * *

A shadow streaked through Ryukin.  
  
Brown, formfitting sleeveless blouse. Tight slacks with one pants leg torn off to reveal a shapely leg and the mid-thigh garter belt where a pair of sai were neatly tucked.  
  
Tara was on the warpath.  
  
Running full-pelt, she seemed almost to blur as she sped around buildings burning and the like, passing Ryukin fighting BlackOps, past the screams of the dead and the dying...  
  
The Haste spell would not last much longer. But for the time being it was enough; it had to be enough. Speed granted through the power of the planet immortal flowed through her, giving flight to her steps. The world blurred into one streak of color and light around her, of the blue and emerald of plasma fire, of yells and ninja magic, of sprays of blood...  
  
Whipping past the forms of two BlackOps standing over a prone woman, her sai slid smoothly into her hands, spinning, slicing through air, streaks of quicksilver. Gouging through the back of their BlackOp trooper gear without stopping, they collapsed like puppets with cut strings, blade having severed spinal cord without resistance.  
  
"Father!" She yelled as she ran, but her voice was lost in the speed of her flight. Skidding to a stop, stabbing her sai into the ground to slow her motion, she looked in part horror at the burning dojo, flames red as blood itself, an unnatural fire, the residuals of the Fire Dance sacrifice that her father had given his life for. Taking a speeded up step forward, ready to dash in...  
  
A single BlackOp strode out, resplendent in spidersilk plate body armor of the black and crimson that the elite of the Imperial troopers favored so much. The helmet, normally an opaque mask of some unknown reflective material, was gone, and Tara could see the face of her father's killer.  
  
Katana almost as long as he was tall, held behind his back; a light guard easily moulded into a thousand and one defensive parries, the entire blade length lined with attack and defensive materia. Gauntlets studded with materia slots shone, holding even more power within their grasp. Flowing black hair.  
  
Amidst the flames behind him, he smiled casually. "Tara. I wondered when I would see you again." He smirked now, cruel. "Pity about daddy dearest." He lifted his blade to show her that it was still dripping with blood. Violently, he swung out, flicking the blood off the weapon and onto a burning surface with a small splat and a hiss and crackle of fire.  
  
Rage built up in Tara. Power like she'd never known coursed like liquid fire through her bloodstream, Shiva sang the song of ice in her mind. She was cold now, anger focused like an edge, all on this one person. All here. "You.... die."  
  
"You first." Renaku grinned. As he suspected... the girl was unlocking her own potential already...  
  
She was beyond all. She had reached the level of desperation long before and had gone past the limit. Tara was in a Break Charge. Her body abruptly shimmered with light, and her pupils widened before vanishing altogether, her eyes pools of white, energy emanating from her, drifting outward in tendrils.  
  
The former Imperial assassin let out a wordless scream, sai held out either side of her like short metal wings. The ground behind her abruptly cratered as she flung herself forward, Haste still in effect...  
  
It was to Renaku's credit that he managed to bring one hand forward and snap off a spell before Tara reached him. "Flare Sprid."  
  
A myriad of golden arrows, harbingers of flame, arced out from his palm, looping up and crossing the night sky with a matrix of fire, all homing in on the Ryukin prodigal.  
  
Tara broke off her direct charge and broke sideways, leaping straight up, the Flare Arrows a spiderweb of flame marking her path. Flipping around in midair, hand outstretched between her legs, it was her turn to fire off a magic spell. Her will focused through the materia, Shiva lent her aid, her own birthright, the magic, the ability that was hers, focused through her arm, built up in her hand, and let off. It was almost a struggle to keep control of the spell. "ICE!"  
  
Ice was a low-level spell. Nothing in comparison to Di-Ice or Tri-Ice of the same element. But somehow a moderately sized iceberg formed, the air crystallizing in midair, many, many times more powerful than an atypical 1st tier spell.  
  
Tara clamped behind the boulder of ice, falling, the Flare Arrows gouging chunks out of her protection. If only he didn't...  
  
"Blast Rondo." A scattering spread of tiny fletchettes, acting like tiny firecrackers, buried themselves in her midair protection and blew it to so many ice shards.  
  
...do that.  
  
She landed, and the first hand-to-hand blows were exchanged. The sounds of steel on steel rang, repeating at times, all at the tempo of a furious dance that only the combatants knew. A curving slash was caught by one sai allowing for a swipe for the other, a kick followed up by a move that would have gutted him had he not moved back, a close-range reverse parry that turned into an offensive maneuver...  
  
Tara's brain was working. At this rate... she was expending energy maintaining the Haste spell just to keep up with him. She was faster... he was stronger... but probably less skilled without his magical implements... as Patch had proved by meeting him and beating the snot out of him barehanded.  
  
Focused on disarming him now, she twirled both sai, forming an X above her head to protect from an overhead slash that would have turned her easily into a pair of Half-Taras. Flipping the grip she had on one dagger around, she twirled in midair, right as Renaku followed up with a sideways sword swipe. She heard the sword whistle past her in midair as she revolved, then turning as she hit the dirt to snag his shin.  
  
He fell also, but she was the first to rise, pinning him to the dirt. Tara clubbed him in the jaw viciously with the hilt of her sai, reversing her grip once more so the blade side faced him.  
  
Renaku caught the needlethin edge of the sai with two fingers.  
  
"You're good. But not good enough." He said, cliche'ing the fight scene to hell and back. But it was traditional...  
  
Tara jumped up, ripping the sai from his grasp and kicking off from his jaw in the bargain to land in a crouch. "That is not for you to decide. All I want to see..."  
  
She spun her sai so the materia in the hilts shone facing her opponent. "...is you... dead." Both her arms snapped out in front of her, palms open. Words to no spell known to mankind popped into her brain, and she yelled. "...Arc... AURORA!"  
  
People across Ryukin would later notice, when they assessed the damage, that the beam of energy that she blasted out had extended over a hundred meters.  
  
A swirling beam of light collected in her hands, right before blurring into white and smashing into Renaku. Too late, he had used the time she needed to taunt him to get up and put a defensive spell into place. "Guardian souls, grant us your defense! Shell!"  
  
The sphere of protective light wrapped him, sealing him off.  
  
Now it would be helpful to explain how Shell works. Basically, it is a shield which prevents most magical and energy projectiles from getting through. However, it will not stop bullets or any physical of the like, unlike the Barrier spell. And although the sphere will maintain its shape, it also depends on the nature of the attack.  
  
The Aurora spell that Tara managed to create in the middle of a Break Charge was pretty much 90 pure concussive force.  
  
Which meant that Renaku, wrapped in a sphere, was blasted for almost a hundred meters backwards, ripping a deep trench in the ground where he passed.  
  
As the last of her energy left her, Tara collapsed to the floor, dropping her weapons, only now noting the true extent of the power she held. This was why Harumi was envious of her and almost everyone else in the Ryukin treated her like an outcast. Because she was born with this ... this power. This ...True Magick.  
  
Then a high, cold laugh drove all thought of that out of her mind.  
  
Renaku floated. A bit ruffled, to put it lightly. His BlackOp gear had been torched and in some parts melted by his fight with the old man Murasaki; the Arc Aurora had almost shattered the Shell incantation completely and would have atomized him if not for it.  
  
Not to mention being blown a hundred meters backwards does wonders for your hair. Shell only stopped magic and energy; it did not stop physical objects.  
  
Which also meant that there WAS a large part of his body that was hurting from being driven across land and through a few of the small houses that the Ryukin so favored.  
  
All that aside, he knew when he had won.  
  
He floated down next to the defeated Tara. "Game, set, and match. Your father is dead, your sister sold you out. Now all that remains is to destroy your spirit..."  
  
Tara spat in his direction. "Kill me already."  
  
Renaku laughed again, but the smile never touched his eyes. "No, I have a far more interesting use for you... girl...." He picked the redhead up, one gauntleted hand closing around her neck. Both of Tara's hands reached up in an instinctual reaction to prevent herself from asphyxiation, but although the grip was uncomfortable, he wasn't choking her.  
  
"KILL ME, YOU SUNUVA-" She screamed. "DO IT!"  
  
Renaku's eyes gleamed. "That's not a nice way to treat someone who holds your life in their hands." Then, his eyes glowed black with power, magic flowing through him. Tara could feel it; dark, pulsing, and evil. He was like her. He was born with True Magick. And it had grown, like him. Then his smile split his face as he raised her up, energy flowing to the hand around her throat. "......Draw." He intoned softly, and Tara blacked out...

* * *

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and blinked again before I asserted that what I saw was not a hallucination of the night or something brought on by too much stress, which was a very likely conclusion.  
  
There was light. Light in the night sky. And smoke. I could smell it even from this far off.  
  
Frantically, I checked Durandal. "Still getting a signal from Patch's CNIs?" CNI stood for Communication Neural Implants. For some reason, the words struck me as unimaginative and slightly odd.  
  
"Affirmative." Durandal beeped, all too cheerfully.  
  
"Bearing oh-two-zero?" I said. "I want to be sure."  
  
The cyborged AI that had formerly been a human conciousness sounded a bit miffed. "Are you saying you don't believe me?"  
  
"No..." I said. "It's just.... there's something going on there."  
  
"What's the bet that it involves Lieutenant Patch?" Durandal replied, smart-aleck. "You know. Just follow the trail of destruction."  
  
"He has that much of a rep?" I couldn't help smiling. "Well, whatever's going on, I think we'd better hurry. And be battle-ready when we get there, too."  
  
Durandal gave a small sigh through his speakers. I still couldn't get over that. I mean, an AI sighing? Am I making any sense? "You'd better wake the girls. Nothing like the smell of battle in the morning to get up to."  
  
I shook my head. "Don't start." The cliche hung so thick in the air you couldn't have cut it up with a plasma claymore.  
  
...Did they even make plasma claymores?  
  
Nevermind. I had been feeling sorta discorporated, slightly unreal, a bit frayed around the edges since my return to this universe... maybe a side effect of interdimensional travel? I had no idea. Well, I sure as hell hoped it wasn't. Worst thing right now is for me to go totally insane.  
  
...Screw insane. I was dreaming. All of this, these other realities, these other me's, me being piped through space time, me being the keystone to some thing that apparently zapped people from one universe to another...  
  
I gunned the engine. "Let's roll."

* * *

Catherine kicked the body of a fallen BlackOp off her long knife, red pooling over black armor. Closing her eyes, she spun around, knife flung outwards to catch another in the throat.  
  
Patch grunted. "One-two, one-two..." He counted the punches, right left right, fists like sledgehammers beating a bloody tattoo. The spidersilk plate the BlackOps wore may have helped some, but against the good-old fashioned beatdown, there was no defence, fancy weapons and armor notwithstanding. Clocking the guy with an elbow that smashed his helmet in, he threw him into another before darting around one, catching his head in two hands and twisting violently to the side. "Ah... that felt good. Nothing like it."  
  
Then a massive flare of light and an explosion cut through the night air, even above the burning buildings. A single yell could be heard.  
  
The beefy O7 rebel grunted. "I guess we found Tara."  
  
"Is the girl even capable of that..." The former Imperial scientist muttered, before slamming a fist into the belly of a BlackOp, stealing his plasma pistol, and emptying the charged clip into his twitching form. "So this is the True Magick Rezo spoke of..."  
  
Patch gave her a worried look and shifted the form of Harumi on his back. "I think we'd better hurry..."  
  
Catherine led the way, ghosting past the forms of the dead and the dying. Ryukin fought bravely, but the BlackOps were better equipped and what was more, had plasma firearms. Even as she watched, a young Ryukin girl fell to a brutal barrage of plasma bolts; near inhuman speed, reflexes and skills still naught when it came to a run-and-gun fight.  
  
Any idiot could pull a trigger. It took a highly skilled individual to bend their will to materia, or even to the ninja art the Ryukin so often used. Which was why apart from her Magnum, Catherine was largely against firearms. She had earned her skill with materia through hard work and a lot of patience...  
  
Patch pounded after her, the girl on his back no more than a piece of baggage. Harumi didn't struggle, but she did look with horrified eyes as the BlackOps continued to kill and burn...  
  
Noting her discontent, Patch gave a mean smile. "Bet you wish you hadn't sold your family out to the Imperial Empire now...."  
  
Catherine came to an abrupt stop in a small clearing.  
  
Tara was on her knees, screaming, as black electricity encased her form, all emanating from a hand on her forehead. His hand. Renaku's. Even as they watched, Renaku seemed to glow with a white light, as if energy was being sucked out of her and into him, some sort of disgusting energy vampire-  
  
She collapsed in a smoking heap.  
  
Renaku turned to the two, a wide grin on his face. His armor was chipped, cracked, and melted in places. But he fairly radiated power.  
  
"Do you think you can stop me now? When the Ryukin thief's power runs through my bloodstream?"  
  
The black-clad scientist didn't break poise, moving smoothly, her magnum jumping in her hand as the slide pumped back, a single shell moving much, much faster than the naked eye could follow, air cushioning and warping around the bullet-  
  
...that came to an abrupt stop as Renaku held up one hand.  
  
Catherine's eyes widened. "Impossible-"  
  
"Oh, it is." The traitor to the O7 smiled coldly. "Now I will show you the power of True Magick..."  
  
He gave a bloodcurdling scream as wings of pulsing black erupted from his back, an unholy birth, accompanied by the rupturing of flesh and bone as they tore through the spidersilk armor the BlackOps typically wore. They both fascinated and repulsed Catherine; the Imperial scientist herself very interested in people born with True Magick. Patch, on the other hand, crossed himself.  
  
Renaku floated, four black-feathered wings dampened with blood now testing the breeze. His smile still remained, but his eyes, his cold eyes, were now pure black, the entire eyeball darkened. Arcane emblems appeared, seared on his face as if by an invisible brand.  
  
"Now.... no one can stop me." He raised both his hands, and the ground fissured under him. "Not you, not the pitiful remains of the O7, not even Rezo on his throne of broken glass."  
  
But then a small voice, weak even from the effort needed to speak, spoke up.  
  
"...It's... it's not over."  
  
Patch rushed to Tara's side as she struggled to get up. "It's not over..." She repeated as the O7 trooper helped her up. On her feet now, she faced the unholy apparition before her. "True Magick is a gift from the planet. Yet you... you work for Rezo... building machines and raping the earth... even that is not enough for you... would you take your fight to other worlds as well?" Her voice grew in strength and confidence as she spoke. "And when all is desolate, when all is bare and destroyed, what will you do then? What rules will you make?"  
  
Renaku gave a low hiss that sounded more snake than human. "There are no rules for people like us...."  
  
Tara raised her head high, tears streaming down her face, but the fire of defiance within her gaze had reached fusion point. "I used to believe in that also. I didn't know my ability. I was cast out because of it."  
  
Her sister Harumi, still bound and gagged, watched from the side.  
  
Catherine watched. Surely this last stand was pointless? Renaku could probably level the peninsula if he wanted, yet the girl was persisting in making some sort of heroic speech...  
  
Patch looked into the eyes of Renaku and saw madness. He saw fire and brimstone, ice and darkness, in that gaze. Yet he steeled himself for the confrontation that he knew would come.  
  
After all, he said with a wan smile to himself. Who wanted to live forever?  
  
Tara continued, red hair matted and dirty, some of it crusted to the blood on her face, gaining conviction as she spoke. "...I used my affinity True Magick to trick people. To become a thief and assassin, working for the money, seeking a new life for myself...." She remembered her days as a private assassin for the Imperial Empire, doing it for the pay and nothing else... "...until he risked his life for me."  
  
She thought of Rain.  
  
"...I.... will not let you destroy this place, or this world, or these people." She raised her knife in a last gesture. "Because I've finally found something worth fighting for."  
  
Renaku gave a high, cold laugh. "Have it your way." He sneered before charging a ball of dark magical energies in his hands, enough to blast Tara, Catherine, and Patch to kingdom come...  
  
Tara's eyes closed, resigned to her inevitable fate...  
  
She heard a melody. And at that time... it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard... music... she could not remember it... but she heard, and wept...  
  
Her eyes shone with renewed spirit. "Soul of the living world, aid your fallen child. Cure!" Tiny motes of energy flowed from the fissures of the earth, swirling around her and restoring her vitality. "I am a user of True Magick as well." Bloodied hands tightened inside stained leather gauntlets. "I'm not going down that easy."  
  
The being born of True Magick and Renaku's black heart looked on in shock.  
  
But not for long. The demonic ronin snarled before throwing the ball of dark energy it had been charging.  
  
Tara's eyes, now a wintry shade of light blue, narrowed as her arm shot outward, throwing a shaft of ice that speared the ball of darkness, the two exploding in a maelstrom of crackling electricity and ice shards.  
  
Nobody moved.  
  
Then Renaku lunged forward, like an dark apparition of vengeance, growling as his wings propelled him forward. Tara met his charge, and her twin sai caught and held against the traitor's katana.  
  
It was fierce, brutal. They fought, carving a swathe of destruction through the burning village. BlackOp and Ryukin stared alike at the two figures, in a gargantuan struggle, using skill, force, and the raw power of True Magick.  
  
"Let's get out of here!" Patch yelled over the shouts of shock and wonder.  
  
Catherine let Patch grab her by the arm, transfixed as she was by seeing Tara and Renaku's duel. "True Magick..." She whispered in wonder.  
  
Patch dragged her through the streets of Ryukin. "We can't stay here! The Imperial army is moving in-"  
  
"I will help you escape."  
  
The trooper whirled, his nerves on edge, to see Harumi.  
  
"I am afraid I have misjudged my sister." She said in shame, refusing to meet Patch's accusing gaze. "She fights for us."  
  
"The Imperials didn't keep their deal, did they?"  
  
Harumi spoke in a smaller voice, clearly ashamed of what she had done. "They said they wouldn't hurt anyone as long as we submitted you to them."  
  
"Well, great. Just FUCKING great. Does this make you happy?" Patch grabbed the Ryukin girl by the shoulder and forced her to look at the burning houses all around. "Does all this make you happy?"  
  
"Calm down." Catherine spoke, lying a hand on Patch's shoulder. "She only did what she thought was right."  
  
Patch spat. "I sure as hell hope so, because she just sold out her sister, her family, and her whole-fuckin' village." His angry glare seemed to burn a hole right through the Ryukin girl.  
  
"Shut up, Patch." Catherine changed her tone of voice, now speaking softly. "You," She addressed Harumi, "are going to help us get out of here.

* * *

Rezo was pleased. His army had found what remained of the rebel force, hiding in the barbarian peninsula of the Ryukin. About time too; he was wondering when he was going to take care of the thorn in the Imperial Empire's side that was the Ryukin. Superior technology won every time.  
  
Every time.  
  
Then a messenger came in. From the look on his face, the president of the Imperial Empire could tell it was bad news.  
  
"What is it now?"  
  
The messenger winced. He knew Rezo was not going to like the news... "There's been a breakout from the Imperial Citadel... the science sector...."  
  
The most powerful leader on the world's jaw seemed to unhinge and drop down in shock.  
  
"...It seems... they came.... from the Engine.... sir." The messenger said, his voice quaking slightly.  
  
"How many."  
  
The messenger quaked. "...What?"  
  
"How many dead, you dolt? How many were killed trying to stop them getting out?"  
  
"...Two MEDUSA out of action and at least twenty men gunned down... sir... the Dragoons also failed at stopping the intruders..."  
  
Rezo sighed. "Why did you have to come bringing bad news?" He slid his antique silver .38 pistol from its hiding cache under his mahogany desk and fired, once.  
  
The poor Imperial messenger didn't have time to scream before the single small-caliber bullet pierced through his skull, the red diamond tattooed on his forehead signifiying his allegiance to the Imperial Empire erupting in a shower of crimson liquid.  
  
As he signaled for the two badly scared Imperial BlackOps acting as his personal bodyguards to drag away the body, he fumed quietly. Most of the Imperial army elite - the BlackOps - were away assaulting the Ryukin peninsula with only skeleton MEDUSA backup, but that was no excuse for people to appear inside their hub of power, their home city, and sneak out from under their noses! Dammit, there were over half a million of the Imperial Guard in the Citadel, not to mention a few scattered handfuls of Imperial Dragoons... and the Shield-Wall....  
  
This was not bravery or skill. This was downright incompetence. Twenty men and the Dragoons outmatched as well...?  
  
The guard around the Engine had to be doubled and more weaponry had to be installed. There had been talk of pressure on TechDiv for months for them to develop some new sort of intelligent robotic weapon that was supposed to outclass MEDUSA in both size and raw power....  
  
Enough with this.  
  
Rezo keyed a button on his desk, comlinking to TechDiv.  
  
The face of a tired scientist appeared onscreen - the traitor Catherine Shaw's successor. "...Your Excellency?"  
  
Rezo didn't mince words. He didn't have the time to. "How soon will Project Triton be ready?"  
  
The scientist scratched his brow, idly chewing on a pen. "...Um... GOLEM is in the final testing stages, and the KRAKEN unit is being operated on even as we speak. LICH should be expected to be battle-ready in the next few weeks."  
  
The president of the Imperial Empire smiled. It was not a nice smile. "Well done. Install GOLEM as a secondary defence mechanism around the Citadel's east wall. Have KRAKEN and LICH ready for our attempt to breach into another reality."  
  
"Yes... but... uh... sir? With all due respect, why are we deploying GOLEM here? Surely the Citadel is not prone to attack?"  
  
Rezo closed his eyes. "Just do as I say, you insufferable dolt. You can never be too careful."

* * *

"Movement on radar, Shrike!"  
  
The MEDUSA squad captain peered as his radar. "What?"  
  
"I say movement on radar, dammit! It's going fast, and it's heading right for us?"  
  
Jibes of the few other MEDUSA pilots stationed around the peninsula filtered through Shrike's headset. Despite the seemingly defeated town of the Ryukin, on fire and burning, their large mecha weapons still pointed menacingly at the small outpost, shadows in the night over faces lit only by targeting screens and data flows. Their leader, Shrike, was named aptly - he was cold as a razor and about as devastating as a small tactical warhead when behind the controls of a MEDUSA.  
  
"Stop whining about it, Hulk, you big pussy." The team leader said. "Our orders are to prevent anyone from escaping the Ryukin peninsula."  
  
"Yeah right, Shrike, but our orders don't say shit about anyone coming IN to the peninsula!" Hulk shot back. His name fit him as well - he was a hulking beast, and abnormally too fast for anyone that beefed up. His pilot trainer had recommended he go back to trooping because he was so good at it. "And damn-they're closing right on us!"  
  
Shrike barked orders, proper tac-comm style. "Ghost, K2, check it out."  
  
"Yes sir." One pair MEDUSA broke off from pointing its guns at the Ryukin village, changed into a speedier configuration, and zoomed off, lightly treaded wheels digging fantails in the sand. "Visual contact!"  
  
Acting in tandem, the MEDUSA snapped on a pair of high-beam floodlights, while at the same time switching off their night vision.  
  
It was....  
  
"What the fuck?" K2 muttered. "Is that a fuckin' car?"  
  
"Damn straight." Ghost muttered, lining up crosshairs on the vehicle already. "Where the hell'd it come from?"  
  
"Easy, boys." Shrike's voice rang over the comm. "It's just a car, no heat yet."  
  
Hulk snorted. "It's moving hella fast."  
  
"Do we look like we're arresting someone for speeding?" Shrike spoke, annoyed now.  
  
Hulk didn't break pose. "I'm just saying that because it's headed right for Ghost."  
  
Shrike bit back a reply before he realized his team member was right. "Ghost, take evasive action!"  
  
"FUCK that, I'm not moving my ride for a fuckin' car!" Ghost yelled. "Dodge THIS!" And his finger closed tightly around a trigger.  
  
Even as Shrike let out a yell of fury, the Hellfire missile streaked out, a faintly glowing trail of exhaust following after the explosive, heading right for the small, nondistinct car.  
  
Ghost, already exulting in his kill, was therefore shocked as the sedan seemed to almost glide sideways away from the missile, which hit ground zero with an earthshattering boom, pockmarking the earth with a sizeable crater.  
  
"What the FUCK -?" Ghost screamed. "Who the hell is driving that thing?" His MEDUSA screeched to a stop as the sedan zoomed past the line of MEDUSA blocking the entrance to the peninsula, defensive line now breached.  
  
"Well done, fuckhead." Shrike snarled. "You just let an enemy through the gates."

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that wasn't too bad."  
  
"Nice driving." Alex commented. "Can you teach me how to do that?"  
  
I shrugged, bringing the car to a screeching halt while throwing up a fishtail of sand. "Maybe."  
  
Kyrina breathed a silent curse as she looked at the village. It was on fire. It also looked vaguely like one of those Asian-oriental things with the bamboo and all, had it not been on fire and burning. "Someone is going to pay for this."  
  
Alex shot me a glare. "And I have the feeling the Imperial Empire is at the bottom of this."  
  
"Not my problem." I said, even as I slung my ashandarei from my back and activated it, the crackle of plasma flame a comforting sight. "My job's to take Kyrina to Patch and then go home."  
  
"Do I know this Patch guy?" Kyrina quipped, clipping her knife to her pistol to form the plasmacaster once more.  
  
Alex was still glaring at me. "Just another schmuck."  
  
"Still tracking a signal." Durandal chimed in, therefore giving me an excuse to turn away from her. "Around 200 feet."  
  
I made sure the single plasma rifle was locked and loaded before tossing it to Alex. "Well, let's go then."  
  
We had scarcely gone twelve feet when I came upon a body.  
  
It was not the first or the last that we would have to see that night.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**  
  
Not. Cool.  
  
I had exams. Then I went home for summer, and now this is Chaos, addressing you as a 16 year old who had his birthday over summer.  
  
Now I'm back at school, only now saying "ho, shiest" as to the fate of FFR. I really love this epic that's taken the most of my time and the most of my procrastination.  
  
People may have noted that I've removed the author's notes from many of the chapters besides the first disk ending. It seemed a little too unprofessional. But hey, what the heck.  
  
We're bringing this closer and closer to the end of Disk 2, people. Bear with me here - the first few weeks as a sixth former have not been exactly wonderful. As a matter of fact, it's a lot more work, a lot more stress, and not to mention a whole lot more boring.  
  
I've just been through quite a lot of personal pain as well. If you've been reading my LJ regularly, you should know. But hey, I suppose I write best under pressure.  
  
Oh, and I've taken up residence on - like and , but with, wait for it, NO RESTRICTIONS on NC-17 stuff. Not to mention the stuff is generally a lot higher quality than the stuff shown here. So join !  
  
Until the next time, the guy on the other side of the tortured screen says peace and starry nights.  
  
c'rayne out. _


	20. DISK II: nin9: r3turn t0 th3 w1red

Ever since the beginning of time, science had been working, in all universes, to destroy the power of religion. Belief in the omnipotent died out as the origin of humanity and sentient life was replaced by the nihilistic view that we were all sort of cosmic accident, a kink in the dubious theory of evolution that had grown into the most prominent species on the planet despite our lack of attributes needed for survival. We bred like rodents as well, every so often creating a few particular individuals who have the power to change the course of our race as a whole...

Sentiency. Intelligence. This is our gift. This is our curse.

And look what we've done with it.

You know, I'm not overly superstitious. Things tend to just happen to me, and I take what happens as it comes. There are some things I can't explain, and I know that. But I won't go out of my way to say that whatever gods are out there are out to get me.

Angels, you say? Do I believe in angels?

Well... I don't know. I don't believe in magic, I don't believe in portals with the power to displace people from one universe and stick them in another with no way of going home. What the hell is this? Some sort of interdimensional Robinson Crusoe? So who am I to question the existence of angels?

Oh, angels. You mean in the big wings flappy flappy love joy and peace soldiers of heaven does it exist and whatnot.

I don't think they exist. But they might. Because what I think can be wrong. Well, maybe there are angels. But not the ones with huge wings and a nifty rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus. Just a few selfless people that watch over us all, making sure we do the right thing, helping us on the way, and hoping that we do it for the best.

Although those selfless people are far too rare in our modern world.

> > > > > > > > > > > >

**14 4745Y >3417Y **

**f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y **

**an angelhawk studios production **

**original concept by redshadow **

**written by chaosrayne **

**disk 2wo: nin9: r3turn t0 th3 w1red **

> > > > > > > > > > > >

For the fourth or so time since her fight began, Tara fell to the ground.

And only just rolled to the side as Renaku came down from the apex of his jump and pierced the ground with his katana. Handspringingup, she called on what little remained on her power...

She had never channeled this much before. It hurt... ohh it hurt. Her body was already feeling the extreme effects of fatigue from casting so many augmentative spells and defensive spells in tandem.

"You're starting to feel it, aren't you." Renaku sneered. "As I grow stronger... you grow weaker. You can't defeat me."

Tara lunged down and up, leaping under Renaku's guard, drawing three vertical cuts across his chest. He merely shrugged as the wounds almost immediately began to close, his body held together with strands of True Magick. She breathed heavily, she was close to defeat... what was that noise? The noise of...

...yelling?

"...KYAAAA!"

Then a glowing blue plasmic blade carved into Renaku's side, following up with a backflip kick off his face, heel slamming painfully into the jaw, as Rain joined the fray.

Tara saw him, bursting from the flames and wreckage of her Ryukin hometown, a shadow of death, ashandarei swinging from over his shoulder like a scythe tinged blue, ready to reap forth stabbity justice. Her heart soared with the realization that he was still alive. He appeared not to have seen her at all, going toe-to-toe with Renaku.

For his flurry of blows, each more ferocious than the last trailing with blue plasma, Renaku seemed more angry than hurt. "You..." He spat. "I see you did not perish in the ion blast as I had intended..." He was cut off as Rain finally landed a blow that hurt - a knee to the groin.

Growling, Renaku gave a flap of his dusky wings and raised a hand. A ball of shadow began to form in his palm, intending on blasting Rain to the ninth level of hell, or maybe just one; either would do just fine. Rain didn't seem perturbed; as Renaku let loose the blast, he dived.

The space behind the SFMA cadet went nova as dark energies slagged the ground behind him until it was the consistency of runny syrup. Jumping and kicking off a wall that crumbled at the impact, wood and tile weakened by intense heat, he dived down, and the ronin was forced to block with his katana. That was, until a wave of pure magical energies pushed the air outward, and Rain was blown backward like a leaf.

Riding the breeze and focusing on his opponent, Rain screamed out. "MARCOOO!"

Several yards away, hidden securely in the torched remains of a pagoda, Alex lined up the sights of her semiautomatic plasma rifle and racked the slide. "Polo, bitch."

A concentrated burst of plasma-tipped FMJ rounds tore into Renaku's body at high speed, breaking his concentration and knocking him back as the hissing plasma ate holes in his tattered remains of BlackOp gear.

The redheaded mage, albeit downed, took her chance. "Howling breath of winter, freeze the blood! Di-ICE!"

-

I watched her as she raised one hand and let off the ice spell.

Her.

Same red hair. Same gaze. But... she had changed somehow... she seemed... less sure of herself. Less arrogant.

...Well, maybe that had to do with the fact that she was fighting that bastard that had wounded me last time and left me for dead in front of a ticking ion bomb. Said bastard had somehow managed to grow a pair of wings in my absence.

Yes, wings, you heard me. The big flappy flappy love joy angel wings. Except these were a dark, viscous black.

And said bastard was now enclosed in a large, pristine block of ice, wings and all.

I walked up to the large ice block and tapped it experimentally with one finger. Solid. Whatever was in there wasn't getting out for a long, long time.

Then a pair of arms wrapped me in a large hug.

I was surprised for a second, then I broke away. "You... you were going to sell us out. What happened to that?"

It sounded really unneccessarily cruel, even to my own ears. And then I saw the change, a carefully, practiced mask slip into place behind the initial outburst of emotion that Tara had shown. The old Tara was back, sarcastic, sure of herself. But I was almost certain that for a second there, she had almost seemed like she cared...

She didn't have an answer for my question, so I continued. "Did you fake the kiss as well? Or did you just enjoy playing with my emotions so you could take us and sell us out to Frosty here?" I tapped the ice cube for emphasis. "Please don't tell me you're angsting over it - I told you it wasn't your fault. I just can't believe you kissed me to gain our trust..." I paused. "...It was fake... wasn't it?"

Tara lunged forward, and before I knew what was happening, her lips were on mine.

Whoa.

This was unlike the earlier kiss she had given me while naked atop me in the sadly lost DA-000001A. That was more a kiss of ... possession, of taking something she wanted. This was... how do I say this? ...More gentle. More like an acceptance of something and living with it.

Before I knew it, it was over.

"...Consider that repayment." She turned around, and began to walk away...

...before she spoiled the effect completely by falling to one knee, cursing. "Damn... must have used more than I thought..." I heard her mutter, and I was at her side, helping her up... only to have her ignore the preoffered hand up. She struggled to her feet on her own.

Kyrina sauntered up, ripped costume and all, and looked at the winged popsicle. "What the hell is that? Where the hell are we?"

I poked Tara. She explained with her usual aplomb. "That was... a ronin. One of us who left and chose to dishonour our way by falling in with the Imperial Empire. This is the Ryukin Peninsula... my homeland. And it's burning because my sister-" Here she spat, and I saw blood in her spittle. "-sold me out to the Imperials and told them I was here."

Kyrina shook her head again. "Like I said, what the hell is that? Where the hell are we?"

I sighed. Explanations would have to wait for later. "Where's Patch?" I pointed at Kyrina. "That's the person he wanted us to bring back."

-

Alex watched coldly and kicked aside a random piece of charred rubble (or was that a body part?) as Tara kissed Rain. Not the first kiss she had seen them share. She couldn't care less.

Liar, she told herself. Why did it hurt so much then?

Tara was the betrayer of their little group. She had said she was with them. She was the one that had kissed Rain just to gain his trust. Yet here he was, making out with her? Sheesh.

Lost in thought, she so engrossed in internal monologue that she literally fell into an Imperial BlackOp.

"What... the... fuck! Hey! There are still survivors over here!" The helmeted BlackOp crackled into his headgear, being part of the "death squads" assigned to kill until some inkling of the three fugitives was eked out of the Ryukin people.

Alex fixed him with a glare.

The fact that she held that long knife like she knew how to use it was scary enough. The way that she stood there without fear even as he leveled his own plasma rifle (a far superior weapon, even by his own standards) at her was disheartening enough. But the pure hate and anger, righteous fury brimming on tears of rage; that was what caused the poor Imperial BlackOp to nearly wet his pants.

There were a rapid series of slashes, a scream that turned into a sort of gurgle halfway through as the man began choking on his own blood, his lungs filling with the red of his life, and a thump of a body falling to the floor.

"Nice move. But rather visceral, don't you think?" A smooth, lightly accented voice from behind her spoke. Alex knew that voice-

"Yes. You got away from me last time, rebel scum. But this is-"

Doctor Catherine Shaw throughly expected the girl, weak with emotional pain, to drop the knife. What she did not expect was the girl to spin neatly on one heel to plant the other into her hand, so that her aim went off, the bullet shot into the heavens, and the Magnum was knocked flying... right up...

Both girls jumped for the gun; Alex was the one successful, and they both landed, lying down, the barrel of the handcannon at the doctor's temple, and the edge of one of Catherine's throwing knives against a throbbing vein in Alex's neck.

"Had fun in the other reality?" Catherine asked, as if she was discussing what to have for breakfast.

"What would you like to have for breakfast?" Alex asked, as if she was discussing how much fun she had in the other reality. "Although I don't think it matters much; it's death for breakfast, with the mood I'm in."

And that was when the squad of BlackOps decided to appear around the edges of the clearing brandished locked, loaded, and charging plasma rifles.

Both Alex and Catherine broke away from each other and rolled as the top marksmen in the BlackOp squad of eight tried their very best to make their targets resemble meaty pieces of swiss cheese. They were not nearly as good shots as the worst in the Imperial Dragoons, but hey, you can't miss much at that sort of range with an automatic weapon.

Unless your target happens to be pissed off and coming out of the roll behind you to use you as a swiftly deteriorating human shield while shooting your squadmates with a .357 handcannon or your target happens to know that the weakness in the BlackOp armor is neck (at the junction between helmet and body armor), armpits, and groin, and is busy throwing knives at those weak spots in question while doing bullet-dodge stunts that someone in a cheesy action movie would be proud of.

Alex dropped her 'human shield' still twitching with plasma scoring and pumped a bullet into his helmet out of mercy. The lead slug flattened out in his brain and killed him instantly. The slide on the gun slammed straight backward with recoil so heavy it felt like it almost broke her wrist. "Reload!" She yelled, and ejected the spent mag out of the Magnum before spinkicking it into another BlackOp, shattering the supposedly shatterproof glass of the opaque helmet with bone-jarring force.

Catherine slit another BlackOp's throat, while throwing a magazine at Alex with her other hand; she didn't have to look, she knew the younger girl would catch it. Alex leapt to intercept it in midair, as the remaining two BlackOps still shooting decided to set up a crossfire, she reloaded and was firing the gun out between her legs even before she hit the ground.

"Bolt!" The former Imperial scientist intoned, and watched with satisfaction as the last BlackOp twitched and shuddered, dropping his chunky plasma rifle. Catherine scooped it up, jammed it into the junction between helmet and body armor, and squeezed the trigger. The man went limp.

And then turned to level the plasma rifle at Alex, who was by now already holding the Magnum at herself.

"Deja vu?" Catherine couldn't resist a smile, blood-spattered and singed yet highly satisfied.

"I told you it was death for breakfast." Alex's mind rebelled at the thought. _What the hell was I thinking? That was so cheesy_... But she had to admit; it somehow fit the situation.

Then Patch walked in, carrying Harumi like a large meat sack slung over one shoulder. He noted the spent shells, the gutted and bullet-ridden BlackOp corpses, and appeared almost scandalized that the two women hadn't saved him any.

His eyes lit up on sight of Alex. "Alex! You're back! Did you manage to-"

"Yes, Patch." Alex said tiredly. "We found your girlfriend."

Patch wasn't really a religious man. He would much rather have a cigar than say a prayer before the battle. But right then and there, he felt like kissing the dirt and thanking whatever gods were out there that someone had given Kira another chance.

"And Rain? Is he-"

Alex fumed inwardly. "Yes, the big dumb selfish savior is still with us. Apparently he's the Key to the Reality Engine or something like that."

The big man looked puzzled as the wording of the sentence flew a mile and a half over his head. "...Uh.. whoa."

Only then did Patch notice that Alex and Catherine were still pointing weapons at each other with extreme intent to kill, and only then did he realize that he hadn't explained anything yet.

"Whoa, whoa, Alex, drop it! She's with us now!"

Alex didn't drop the Magnum. It would take too much to forget the semi-psychotic bitch who had tried to gun them down as they were leaving this reality and had almost killed them as they lay immobile against the floor. It was eventually Catherine who folded, her long, materia-studded knife sliding back into its sheath and the open throwing blade in her left hand disappearing into her black robes. The plasma rifle she dropped distastefully on the ground.

"Why do you trust her?" Alex hissed. Today had been a bad day and it wasn't getting any better. "She's an Imperial scientist; you saw her, we all saw her. What's her reason to help us?"

"Survival." Catherine stated, as if it were merely a fact of life. "The man back there... Renaku... he wants me dead because I failed to kill you." Then she added, "Also, this Rebel here saved my life. I owe him a debt."

Patch grunted. "Can you two ladies quit bitchfighting? You're obviously very much in need of boyfriends."

Alex and Catherine both turned 100-megawatt glares on the large man. Although they were both shorter than he was, he felt very intimidated by the fact that they both looked ready to draw and quarter him.

Then, there was a large explosion. Not the first one of the night, but this one was accompanied by a bloodcurdling scream of fury.

"KIRA!" Patch yelled, and took off like a shot, leaving the other two trailing in his wake, still rather scandalized by the O7 trooper's parting shot.

-

Rain had his back to the large ice cube when the explosion happened.

So suffice to say he was not prepared when the ice cube exploded, literally steaming waves of power. It wasn't aimed at him, but even so, he felt a shudder run through his entire body. Tara was knocked to the floor and stayed down. Kyrina in comparison fared much better, gritting her teeth as they rang at multiple low frequencies.

Renaku stood, almost fully naked, his BlackOp gear having been blasted off him, along with the ice cube and around four meters of the surrounding area. It simply just... disappeared. It didn't sag, crater, slag, melt... it was just there one second and the next it wasn't. As if it had been carved from reality itself. His hair hung loose, around his face, matted and bloody in some areas, but he was standing, his katana held in a loose, low grip.

And he laughed. This wasn't the laugh of a man who knew he had the situation well in control, this was the laugh of the deranged and the very much insane. The laugh of madness.

Rain struggled to stand, and as he leapt to attack, the powered-up ronin simply raised one hand, halting the teenager's plasmic blade feet before the blow ever connected. The hand tensed, and Rain was thrown backward into a flimsy wall that crumpled on impact.

Tara tried to get up, and then her eyes widened as swirling magical energy of a purplish hue formed around her.

"...Demi." Renaku intoned, and the redheaded thief screamed in pain as the natural forces of gravity increased, once, twice, a hundredfold. Her body complained loudly as the pressure on it grew; her very spine felt like it was going to crumble to dust from the very effort required to support her body. And pain was all she knew before she blacked out.

Kyrina turned to run, but an invisible grip closed around her neck, and she was lifted into the air, gasping for breath and trying to get a hold on the nonexistent limb around her neck, even as the currents of air controlled by magical energy around her throat constricted.

Patch dashed in, and he was firing even before he came within range, the two heavy plasma rifles he had requisitioned set to overcharge mode, one in each hand blasting away. Over two hundred rounds were fired in a time period of around seven seconds, the weapons rapidly overheating...

...only to have a shield of crystalline green; Renaku's True Magicked form of the Barrier spell, deflect each and every one ever so slightly... as plasma left glowing blue streaks in the air around his form. Not one of those shots managed to even touch the ronin.

Patch growled, and without breaking into a run, he dashed forward, dropping both the guns, hoping to dish it out close and personal. He never reached his goal, as Renaku made a pushing motion with his hand. The sturdy 200lb or so trooper was sent flying straight backward, and as he dug in, he gouged long trenches in the dirt with his feet, until he hit a wall and disappeared from view.

Still laughing, the ronin spread his wings fully, revealing an almost seven-foot wingspan. "Do you pathetic people not understand? You cannot defeat me! The power of True Magick is unsurpassed!"

Unseen, crouched around the corner of a burning building, Alex watched in awe. Catherine was also there, but viewing the scene with a much more professional eye. The way she saw it, the Demi spell would hold the Ryukin girl prone and in pain for a while longer, and she was already weak, having gone two rounds already with Renaku. The other girl hanging in midair choking for air... she wouldn't last much longer either. If she didn't get some oxygen soon she would be well on her way to irreparable brain damage. Rain was probably out of commission... and Patch?

"You stole a box when you disappeared through the Reality Engine." The dark mage said. "Do you still have it?"

Alex nodded silently and passed her the box of summon materia, the gems of power glowing a deep ruby red in anticipation of being used. Catherine rummaged around in it before coming up with one. "...Yes... this is the one. Can you buy me some time?"

The younger girl turned. "Are you crazy? You saw what he did to the others..."

"And if you don't hurry up, some of them are going to die." Catherine said matter-of-factly.

Alex got ready to attack. "What proof do I have that when my back is turned you won't just leave us all to die, now that you have the summon materia?"

Catherine smiled. It was not a nice smile. "You'll just have to trust me."

-

Renaku watched as another figure leapt to the attack. He smirked. Pitiful. Insects, all of them. They could not hurt him. Why not humor himself?

He dashed forward to counterattack. Despite himself, he was surprised when the slip of a girl managed to evade his main attack and roll to one side, thin blade biting into his side.

Snarling in fury, he turned...

A trap! A distraction!

Sensing the buildup of magical energies close by... He knocked the annoyance of a girl away and focused on the true threat... the dark mage. Who was at that moment holding her knife guard up, the shining, crystalline summon materia turning from a dark red to a fierce, shimmering mix of red, yellow, and blue.

Too late.

He charged up another orb of magic. His target could not dodge. She was too focused on the materia; the spell had begun now, and she had to follow it through.

Catherine screamed as the dark energies tore into her body. Smoking, she landed a crumpled heap.

Satisfied, the ronin cackled, bordering on insanity. Nobody could stand before his power...

Then he noticed the girl who was supposed to be choking in midair wasn't really choking in midair anymore.

_From thy eternal slumber I call to thee..._

She had one hand around her neck, sure, and she was still hanging there, but she was smiling. A painful smile, almost a grimace, but a smile. Her other hand held a plasma pistol with a long knife clipped to the underbelly of the weapon. And more importantly, perhaps, the missing summon materia, now glowing a bright white. There was a snap-click as the materia locked into the breech of the plasma pistol, a short charge period, and then the one known as Kyrina looked into Renaku's eyes.

_Avatar of the elements, I summon thee..._

He realized ... he knew her. Although she looked different... she was in the O7. Or used to be. Until he destroyed their haven.

_...Awaken, Tritoch! Awaken, Herald of the Three! _

This one was reputed to be one of the O7's most powerful mages.

And in that stare, Renaku could see why. His arrogance and his attitude crumpled like a tent in a hurricane as she choked out a single phrase.

_By storm, by flame, and by frost, let all behold your infinite power! Tri-Dazer!_

"...You... be fucked." She gasped out, her finger tightening on the trigger.

And then they all faded, as Renaku gazed about him in consternation.

-

"Where... where am I...?" Kyrina gasped for breath. She seemed to be standing on the edge of a lake, the shimmering materia in her plasmacaster still a brilliant white. "I have to get back... get back to the fight-"

_Remember whom you are._

The girl turned, ignoring the pain in her right leg as she did so. "Wha..."

Everything was silent for a moment, then a brilliant bolt of lightning flashed down from above, not fading but continuing to dance on the water of the lake. Where it touched down, a cyclone of pure fire began to arise, surrounding the lightning with a crimson whirlwind and following its every movement. Then, from within the cyclone, a blue light was sparked and began to expand, quickly surrounding the entire display in crystal clear ice. Which then shattered. The creature that stood in place of the crystal was both terrible and beautiful to behold. It had the body and head of a dragon, with shimmering scales and sapphire eyes, yet also sported a huge pair of birdlike wings, and its feathers shone as if carved from purest opal. It was surrounded by multicolored sparks, remnants of the shattered ice, that swirled around it lovingly. Stretching its wings out as if grateful for its release, Tritoch tilted back its head and roared, an almost musical sound that rose to the heavens.

Kyrina braced herself. She didn't want to fight in the shape she was in, but-

_I am yours to command, Summoner Kira. Use me as you did in times past. I am your strength, I am your will. I am flame and frost and light in one. I am Tritoch._

"Mine... mine to command..." Her mind locked. "My name is Kyrina. I am not your 'summoner Kira'."

_You refuse to accept whom you are?_

"I know who I am, and I am Kyrina, scavenger of Tribe Omega-"

_This is not true. Your smell... your taste..._ Here she gasped as Tritoch extended a snaky tongue, testing the air; _...is the same._

"...Whatever." Kyrina sighed. "...I'd much appreciate it if you just kicked some ass already so that I'd get to sorting things out. Please?"

_Yes, mistress._

-

Renaku's eyes bulged in shock. "SHELL! BARRIER!"

Tritoch looked down at the traitor, and seemed to sneer - it knew of this creature, and was glad that its release was to face such a worthy foe. But there was little time to waste.

_You... you are the one who makes a mockery of our True Magick? You. Will. Pay._

As the Sleeper began a slow intake of breath, its aura was drawn in toward its mouth, the particles aligning and swirling in a three-colored pattern... then the energy was released in a single titanic blast, fire and ice and lightning merging together to form a cone of unstoppable power.

Renaku was caught in the full center of the attack, and within moments was utterly destroyed by the elemental onslaught. ...or perhaps not. Though intensely damaged, the winged one was obviously still alive. It was also, however, intelligent enough to know when to quit - as the Omni-Dazer speared off the combined Shell and Barrier spells, he took to flight, skittering across the sky weaving drunkenly as first one, then two wings were shorn off by the pure power of Tritoch's assault.

-

**Author's Notes: Damn. DAMN DAMN DAMN. Someone please tell me how long it's been. HOW LONG? **

**(sigh) I wanted to junk FFR, I really did. I've got too much other stuff to do. But this story sank its claws into me all over again. Sorry to all my (lack of) fans.**


End file.
